Not Today
by desert-girl
Summary: COMPLETE! He looks after people. She needs some looking after. Darry will meet a girl who changes his outlook on life. Darry POV.
1. Superstitions and Sandwiches

Title: Not Today

Author: Desert Girl

Rating: PG-13

Summary: He takes care of people.  She needs taking care of.  Darry meets a girl that will change his outlook on life.  Darry POV.

Disclaimer: The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.  This story is non-profit.

_Notes:  This is set after The Outsiders novel.  I figured Darry needed a story, so here he gets one.  Hope everyone likes.  All feedback is welcome! _

**Not Today**

**Chapter 1: Superstitions and Sandwiches**

We were in the middle of a heat wave.  Tulsa gets every kind of weather you can imagine, so I was pretty used to anything that was thrown at me.  Sometimes I'd even get a day off on account of snow or rain or heavy winds.  So a heat wave -- it wasn't anything to blink about except when you're roofing houses, well, you start to think you'll take a thunder storm over the heat.

We were doing a project sorta near my house; an apartment complex that had probably been around since before my dad was born.  It was old anyway, and the roof had been in need of repair since I was a kid.  The owner of the complex only shelled out the money for it to be done because last week an old lady was knocked into a coma by a shingle that fell right on her head.  Two-Bit laughed for days and told 'the sky is falling' jokes to anyone who would listen, but I felt sorta bad for this lady.

Of course now everything was being torn up and replaced, and we're in the middle of a heat wave.  I try to get everyone to take plenty of water breaks but it's not real easy to get a bunch of guys to listen to good sense.  I know that first hand.  But I'm doing my best to force myself to remember at least, and I'm climbing down the ladder when I see her.

Not that a girl is so unusual to see but when you're looking at big, burly roofers all day, you sit up and take notice if a female walks by.  I realize the section I'm roofing must be her apartment because she's got a load of groceries in one hand and her keys in the other.  She's at the foot of my ladder by the time I get to the ground.

"Hi," she says, no hesitation at all and she slips her keys into her jeans pocket and holds her hand out for me to shake.  "I'm Julia, but people call me Jules."

I'm sort of taken off guard by her; she's pretty but not in a Cherry Valance sort of way, who, I had to agree with Pony, was the prettiest girl around who wasn't in a magazine.  This girl was a different kind of pretty.  Dangerous-like.  Her face was kinda thin and drawn but her eyes were big and round.  Brilliant green and you couldn't look away.  She was pretty cause of those eyes; they looked like they held secrets and made you wanna find out what she was hiding.

I managed to take the hand she offered and shake it.  "I'm Darrel Curtis, but everyone calls me Darry."

I still hadn't figured out why we were talking.  I was in the middle of work.

"Well Darrel Curtis, that's my apartment right there and your ladder's blocking it."

She had plenty of room to walk under the ladder to get to her door.  I made sure of that before I set the ladder there.  The owner said minimum disruption to the tenants, and he'd pounded his fist into his hand when he'd said it so we knew he meant business.

"There's plenty of room to get through, ma'am," I said, being as polite as I could.

"I'm not walking under the ladder!" she exclaimed, sounding offended I'd even suggested it.  She was blinking at me with those eyes.  "And I'm much too young for you to be calling me ma'am."

I wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused.  "Why can't you walk under the ladder?"  I had a feeling I was going to regret asking.

"Bad luck!"  Her wide eyes got huge.

Now I really didn't know what to say.  I don't believe in superstition at all, not one little bit.  It was a complete waste of time…sort of like this conversation with this crazy woman.  Girl.  Lady.  I coulda argued with her, but it wasn't worth it.  So I hollered for Jerry, one of the guys who was working near me, and asked him to take hold of the top of the ladder.  Roofing ladders are big, see, and you gotta have one guy at the top and one at the bottom if you're gonna shove 'em over a few feet.  Jerry looked at me like I was crazy.

"You aren't finished here," he said.

I glanced at Julia -- Jules -- who didn't seem to be paying much attention.

"This woman needs to get into her apartment," I said.

"She's got plenty of room!" Jerry complained.  I knew he'd say it, since he was the one who helped me position the ladder in the first place.  You don't just need two guys to move them, you need two guys to set them up and take them down too.  I tried to give Jerry a look that said 'just do it', but he didn't take the bait.

"Hey lady!" he called down.  "Just walk under the ladder!  Darry ain't finished with this section yet!"

"S'alright," I called up before Jules could respond.  I didn't know if she'd take offense to being called 'lady' either and her confusing the might out of one of us was enough for one day without adding Jerry to the mix.  "Just help me move it, wouldja?"

Luckily for me (and maybe for him, judging by the irritated look on Jules' face), Jerry just shrugged and we hauled it over.  You could tell he thought the girl was crazy and I sort of thought so too.  My stomach rumbled something awful just then and I managed to catch Jerry's attention before he went back over to the other side of the roof.

"I'm takin' my lunch break now."

He didn't bother to answer, just nodded while throwing another peculiar look in Jules' direction.  I didn't blame him.  I could use a trip to the DX for a sandwich and a few of Soda's crazy stories about the girls who came in to goggle at him so far that day.  He'd get a kick out of the girl who wouldn't walk under the ladder, too.

I'd nearly forgotten she was there until long, slender fingers encircled my arm.  She pulled me a little toward her apartment.

"I was hopin' you could help me with something," she said. "I need a deadbolt put on my door."

It was no skin off my back to say no.  I was roofing the apartment complex, not getting paid to be their handyman.  But for some reason, I didn't say no right away.  Maybe because she smiled, sorta shy and embarrassed, and she didn't look so dangerous then.  My silence mighta worried her because she let go of my arm and shifted the grocery bag like she was nervous.

"I wouldn't ask you except that I live alone and I don't know who else to ask.  This isn't the best neighborhood and the landlord says I can only put on another deadbolt if I do it myself.  I bought one and everything…"

She trailed off, maybe because I was staring at her.  I hadn't meant to, she just looked so normal then, like a kid who was scared and needed help.  I wondered how my first impression of her could have been so different than now.  It had been five minutes at most.   Well, her little speech sealed the deal, there was no chance of me saying no now.

"Sure," I said, hoping' I'd have enough time when I was done to haul down to the lunch truck and buy a sandwich there.

"Thanks, Darry," she said, and sounded genuinely relieved.

The apartment was neat and nicely furnished, and I felt awful dirty and dusty standing in the middle of it.  She handed me a dead bolt that was already out of its packaging and a few screws.  When I looked at the door I could tell she'd already tried to install it herself, but wasn't strong enough to get the screws through the wood without drilling holes.  I keep a drill in my truck but didn't figure I'd need it.  I'm pretty strong.

Jules put her groceries away while I installed the bolt.  She was standing behind me when I finished.  She handed me the key and I tested it and she was smiling when I handed it back to her.

"You're a regular knight in shining armor, Darrel Curtis," she said.

Her nose crinkled up when she smiled and she looked awful young.  Maybe Soda's age. 

"I couldn't justify asking a guy over to my place just to get some help with a deadbolt," she went on, oblivious to my scrutiny.  "I couldn't find any I liked well enough."

The insinuation sailed right over my head then, and I only really understood it later.  I was still too busy wondering why she was living alone in the decrepit apartment complex on the corner of Vine and Sutton.

"I hate to tell ya kid, but a deadbolt ain't gonna do you much good if you invite strange men inside," I scolded her.  I couldn't help myself.  It seemed she needed some watching out.  It was a stupid move she'd made, I could be a rapist or murderer for all she knew.

She shrugged me off and walked back into the kitchen, taking two Pepsi's out of the refrigerator.  She handed me one along with a plate that had a sandwich sitting on it.

"I know it's your lunch break," she said by way of explanation.  "Least I can do is make sure you get to eat."

I felt my stomach rumble again and dug into the sandwich.  She was watching me while she drank her Pepsi, I could feel her eyes on me the entire time.

"So first ma'am and now kid," she finally said, and I regretfully looked up from the sandwich.  It was nothin' special, ham and cheese on wheat, but it was pretty darn good.

"I prefer Jules," she continued, and the dangerous glint was back in her eyes.  It wasn't anger; more like…mischief.  Still, it sorta made me nervous.  The way you'd get nervous if Dally fixed ya with that look.  You knew trouble was coming.

"I'm nineteen," she said after I didn't respond.  "How about you?"

"Twenty," I said reluctantly.  Sure to follow are always exclamations of disbelief that only would get worse when she found out I take care of my brothers by myself.  I started wondering why I was so sure I'd tell her enough to get that far.  I honestly hadn't talked to a woman that wasn't a state worker for this long in almost a year. 

She didn't seem to react to my answer, only to shrug and say, "You sure look older."

She got up and put her Pepsi bottle on the counter and I realized I was paying close attention to her every move.  The way she talked, acted, dressed, it was all different than I was used to, but in a good way.  Intriguing, even.  I had so many questions for her and I didn't know why I cared so much.

"So are you new in town?" I finally settled on asking.  The furniture looked new.

She shrugged.  "A few months.  I'm going to nursing school."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say.  I had a girlfriend in high school who talked about going to nursing school.  Apparently Tulsa had a pretty good one.  I wondered if they were classmates now.

"I got a scholarship and my dad agreed to get me an apartment but we can't afford a ton."  She held her hand out and looked vaguely disgusted.  "Hence, this."

I looked around and shrugged.  It really was a nice looking apartment from the inside.  The building was old but it wasn't the slums.

"I don't know," I said, trying to sound upbeat.  "This apartment is really nice and the neighborhood -- "  I almost said it could be worse.  "I live around here," I said instead.

Her eyes brightened.  Boy she had pretty eyes.  "You do?"

"Over on Pine, on the other side of the park," I said.  "I even keep my door unlocked and I haven't been robbed yet."

I left out the fact that there are generally dangerous-looking hoods in my house at night which keeps it pretty secure and nothing of value to steal which makes it not much of a target.  Jules' eyes were wide and there she went looking young and innocent again.

"I'm having you put an extra deadbolt on my door and you don't even lock yours!"

I chuckled.  "To be fair, I live with my two brothers and our friends are bangin' in and out at all hours.  You're a young woman living alone. You're right to be cautious."

She seemed to relax after I said this and so did I.  I ate the rest of my sandwich while she told me about her life up till then (from California, absent mother, boring childhood, rebellious teenage years, her father would make her come home if he saw her eating lunch with a  strange man and installing extra deadbolts on her door).  Then she asked about me.  I try to condense my story because I don't like talking about it.  I especially don't like people feeling sorry for me or asking me to talk about what I gave up (football, college, girlfriends) to take care of my brothers.

After I told her, she was quiet for a long time.  Then she said, "Sodapop and Ponyboy.  I really like those names."

That was when I knew I was starting to dig her.

TBC…


	2. Theories and TakeOut

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton. This story is non-profit.   
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1.  
  
  
  
_

**Not Today  
Chapter 2: Theories and Take-Out**

All we had in the cupboard was Tuna Helper, so that's what I figured I was making. Sodapop was gonna complain and then spread grape jelly all over his and Ponyboy probably wouldn't eat at all, but I hadn't made a grocery run in a while and our cupboards were getting awful bare.

I heard the knock on the door and it was a moment before I realized it wasn't Two-Bit tripping over our boots or banging into the wall. No one ever knocks on our door, well, except the cops and the people from the state. Pony was doing homework at the table and Soda was playing cards with Steve on the living room floor; neither one was paying attention or had probably even heard the knock. I stepped over them on my way to answer, mussing Soda's hair with my foot. He didn't even protest he was so busy trying to get a card out of his shoe without Steve noticing.

Even the fuzz would have been less of a surprise than seeing Jules at my door with a huge paper bag that smelled like Chinese take-out.

"Hi," she said uncertainly, biting on her bottom lip. "I hope it's not a bad time."

I tried to shake off my shock and reached out to take the bag from her. She was wearing light green scrubs, like the kind doctors wear in operating rooms. Her hair was up in a ponytail which made her eyes look even bigger and the color of the scrubs made them look even greener. She looked sorta grown-up like that, but still, there was something wild about her. I could tell.

"I just got done with class and I was picking up food for dinner, it's a new place that opened up near the campus, and I thought maybe you and your brothers hadn't eaten."

She said it all in a rush, like she'd rehearsed it and just wanted to get it out. I noticed something else in her voice, a tremble that probably had nothing to do with the weather since the heat wave hadn't shown one sign of breaking. Loneliness, maybe?

"How'd you know where I live?" I asked, and wished I could take it back right away. I didn't want to sound rude and ungrateful, especially since I apparently didn't have to make Tuna Helper after all.

If I offended her, she didn't show it. "You're the only Curtis on Pine in the phone book," was all she said. Her smile was infectious and I smiled back, allowing her in the house.

It had been days since any of us had even picked up after ourselves. Pony and I are really the only ones who do it, and Pony was in the middle of exams and I was in the middle of the big apartment complex job and we were both working like crazy. I don't think I'd even noticed it until now, when I led Jules through the house, past Steve and Soda who were now staring up at us amid a sea of cards, and into the kitchen. The dishes weren't even done.

"Sorry about the mess," I said quickly. "We've been busy around here."

She shrugged like she hadn't even noticed it, and was unpacking dozens of food cartons onto the counter. Steve and Soda filed into the kitchen, and I saw them both look at her from head to toe before Soda broke into a huge grin.

"Who's your friend, Darry?"

Steve was already opening the cartons, and he handed one full of kung pao chicken to me, and one full of chow mein to Soda before settling onto the counter with beef and broccoli for himself. He wasn't even using a fork.

"This is Jules, Jules, this is my brother Sodapop and his friend Steve."

I handed Steve a fork and he reluctantly took it while nodding at Jules. Her eyes were fixed on Soda, not that it should have surprised me.

"Darry said you were handsome but…"

I heard the sharp inhale and slow exhale of breath and tried to talk myself out of feeling jealous. Girls thought Soda was good-looking; I hadn't met one yet that didn't. I pointed through the kitchen and Jules' eyes followed me into the dining room. "That's Ponyboy."

"That's all you'll ever get to see of him, too. His nose is always stuck in a book," Soda offered cheerfully.

Jules nodded and smiled, but she weaved her way between us and the food, picking up a carton of fried rice on her way out of the kitchen. She walked up to Ponyboy, put the food down in front of him and stood there, expectantly.

Eventually, he looked up and blinked, as if he'd just noticed she was there.

"Hey, I'm Jules," she said, holding out her hand, much like the way she'd introduced herself to me a few days ago. "I'm a friend of Darry's."

Pony looked at me before taking her hand, dumbfounded. I knew what he was thinking. Steve and Soda, too. I don't have friends that are girls. Not anymore, that is. I don't meet new people and if I do (which I don't), they're not girls. I could see it written all over their faces and I tried my best to ignore it.

"I'm Ponyboy," he finally said, then pointed to the Chinese food carton. "Is that for me?"

Jules smiled. "Sure thing. There's a ton more in the kitchen, but you better get over there if you want some 'cause it's going fast."

She wasn't kidding. Soda and Steve were wolfing down the food as if they hadn't eaten in a week. Steve only looked up long enough to survey Jules from head to toe, again.

"Did you come over here to play doctor with ol' Darry or what?"

He and Soda dissolved into a fit of laughter and my sharp look toward Ponyboy did nothing to stop them. Jules didn't seem embarrassed, but I didn't know her well enough to know for sure. Besides, I thought it was rude considering she'd saved us from Tuna Helper. Using a pair of chopsticks, I whacked Steve and Soda over the head with them, which shut them up real quick.

"Ow!" Soda complained. "What's that for?"

"Don't say stuff like that! Ponyboy's fourteen!" I scolded lamely. I knew it was a stupid excuse, but I didn't know what to say on Julia's behalf. She just shook her head and cocked me a grin, as if to say it didn't bother her in the least.

"I'm fourteen, but I ain't stupid!" Ponyboy shot back at me, and the only thing I could do was glare at Steve since he was the one that started it all.

Finally, Jules stepped forward, reaching into the kitchen for a carton of won-ton. She opened it and popped one in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before tipping her head in Steve's direction. "I'm actually a nursing student," she said. "Sometimes we have to go into a real situation, like an operation or an emergency room, and observe. That's what I had to do today, which is why I'm wearing this very flattering outfit."

"I like it," Soda said. "It looks comfortable."

Sodapop's cheerful observation made us all burst into laughter, and I relaxed for the first time in weeks.

* * *

I hadn't meant to let it get so late. Jules had the boys entertained with all of her superstitions (there were many of them) and was busy arguing the finer points of each one before I realized it was past ten o'clock. I could tell Pony thought she was alright, and of course Soda never had a problem with anyone, but Steve kept shaking his head like she was crazy as a loon and there was nothing they could do about it.

Which, I had to admit, might very well be true. She told Soda and Steve that at the DX, she'd only pull in from the north side, because it was bad luck to pull in for gas from the south. They argued with her, telling her you pulled in depending on what side your gas tank was on, any logical person knew that. Jules cheerfully admitted she was far from logical, and said that if you didn't arrive from the north and leave from the south, you were inviting trouble to your car.

Thankfully, that discussion led to what kind of car Jules drives (1962 Plymouth Belvedere, two-toned: black and rust, she said good-naturedly) and Steve stopped rolling his eyes and huffing his indignation long enough to chatter on about the engine and gas mileage of a Plymouth.

For my part, I tried to stay on the sidelines, partly because I don't talk much to begin with, at least not when Steve and Soda are around. They dominate the conversation in any room, and Pony and I are usually perfectly fine with sitting back and taking it all in. Tonight, in particular, I wanted to figure out what drew me to Jules in the first place and why I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since I met her.

I hadn't figured it out at ten o'clock and I had to make sure both Pony and Soda were in bed at a decent hour or they were murder to wake up in the morning. Jules looked surprised when I announced what time it was and said she had to get up early in the morning. She bid goodbye to everyone and -- to my surprise -- they thanked her voraciously for the food, and I gave the boys a look that clearly said to keep their traps shut while I walked her out to her car.

It seemed like it was only getting warmer outside, and I knew that meant trouble for the rest of the night. Soda would probably insist on sleeping with the rickety old fan blowing right on him all night, which would upset Pony and he'd complain loudly until I let him come sleep with me. Which I don't like because I don't really like sleeping with anyone; especially not my little brother. I'm kinda big, and I like my space. Plus, Pony tends to kick.

Jules snapped her fingers in front of my face as we walked down the porch steps, and I blinked, wondering where my mind was all of a sudden. First I couldn't stop thinking about her, then I couldn't pay attention when she was around. Since when had I gotten so easily distracted?

"You alright?" she asked, but I could tell she wasn't really waiting for an answer. I just shrugged and shoved my hands into my pockets while she rummaged around in her purse for her keys. When she found them, she flipped her hair back and shoved a few strands that had come loose back behind her ear.

Her hair was dark, almost as dark as Johnny's was, and thick and unruly like that, too. When I'd first met her, it was down in loose waves around her face and maybe that was part of what made her seem so wild to me. Because she didn't seem that way now; not really. Sure she had crazy ideas and stuff but she'd seemed a lot less dangerous while she interacted with my brothers and I was starting to think I'd been way off with my first impression that day at her apartment.

"I'm sorry to just barge in on you," she said out of the blue, and it startled me: the apology, the chagrined look on her face and she was biting on her lip again. I wanted to tell her to stop doing that. "I was hopin' you'd stop by my place…you know, being that you're around the complex every day. But you didn't so…"

She trailed off and all I could think to say was, "Oh." I was stunned, really. I never woulda thought to just go up and knock on her door, no matter how many times I glanced over to her apartment and hoped I'd catch a glimpse of her coming or going. By now I was working all the way on the other side of the complex, and I couldn't see her door from the area I was roofing, so I'd sort of given up. I don't put much thought into girls anymore -- relationships, anyway. I just don't have the time.

"Maybe it seems too pushy of me," Jules went on, and I realized she talked the way she looked. She was real intense about whatever she was saying, and she said it like there was no other way to be. She was what she was and she believed it, all the way down to her soul.

I liked that.

"I know dropping in on you and your brothers was probably out of line, but you know how it gets…" She trailed off again. Shook her head and laughed a little. "No, course you don't. You're probably wishing for some time alone and here I am doing everything I can to avoid it."

I still hadn't said anything, and she was biting on her lip again. The keys rattled in her hand and she sort of exhaled sharply, then started walking around to the driver's side of the car. I couldn't let her leave like that. It seemed like I was rejecting her. I really, really wasn't.

"It's okay," I said quickly, and she stopped at her door and smiled at me.

"Yeah?"

I nodded firmly and tipped back on my heels. "Yeah," I said, smiling back. I didn't smile much at people, but she was sorta like Soda in that if she smiled at you, you couldn't help but return the favor. "It was real nice of you to bring over that food."

Her smile got bigger. "I wanted to say thank you for helping me out with the deadbolt, it sure was nice of you considering you didn't know me at all."

I shrugged. I don't make it a habit to help out every stranger in the world -- I just don't have time for that -- but my folks always tried to be there for people when they asked, which was why we left our door unlocked for our friends to always have a place to go. There was something about this girl, though, that made me want to help her too. Maybe it was just that she looked so lost half the time, and the other half she looked like she could've given Dallas Winston a run for his money.

"It's no big deal," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "If you need anythin' else, you know where to find me."

Her smile was grim, maybe a little sad. She seemed about to get in her car, maybe drive away and I'd never see her again. But then a small glint in her eye, like she changed her mind or decided something just then, and I felt that familiar nervous energy run through me.

"I have theories too," she said.

"What?" I had taken my hands out of my pockets and was looking up at the sky. Not a cloud in sight, just clear, dark sky and oppressive heat.

"Theories," she repeated and I looked back down at her. She blinked at me with those big, pretty eyes. "You know, in addition to my superstitions."

There was laughter in her voice and I realized she knew I didn't take her superstitions very seriously. I figured not many people did, and maybe it was something about herself she'd just learned to accept without trying to explain. I was proud like that too; I didn't like anybody questioning me or my values, especially when it had to do with somethin' that was real important to me. Like my brothers and how I raised them. Lots of people wouldn't like that we kept beer in the refrigerator (for Two-Bit) and I let them eat chocolate cake for breakfast, but Pony got good grades and Soda worked real hard so what business of theirs was it anyway?

"Theories…like what?" I finally asked. I was sort of curious.

"Like," she said, moving back around her car and closer to me, "If you need something, it'll be there."

She was standing real close now, looking up at me and I had to remind myself to keep breathing. Still, I managed to shake my head in disbelief.

"That's not a theory," I said lightly. "That's wishful thinking. I could really use a thousand dollars but it ain't gonna turn up in my couch cushions."

She chuckled lightly. "I don't mean like that. I mean like less tangible things."

"Like what?"

"Like…" She paused, biting her lip. "You. Maybe I needed to meet you, and there you were, ladder blocking my doorway."

I shook my head. "My ladder wasn't blocking your doorway," I argued. "You just wouldn't walk under it."

She shrugged, and her eyes were twinkling. "Fate knows I don't walk underneath ladders," she pointed out.

"There's no such thing as fate," I shot back.

The frown that creased her face was real this time. She looked distressed, and it threw me for a loop.

"That's real sad," she said softly. "I'm starting to think that instead of me needing you, maybe you need me."

Then she leaned up and kissed me on the cheek, which threw me for another loop. If she didn't stop surprising the hell outta me, I was gonna fall over right onto my own porch. I didn't know what to say while she walked back around her car. I couldn't even focus on her as she keyed the lock and then got inside. Everything sort of had a fuzzy tinge to it, and I just barely noticed her give a little wave as she pulled away from the curb and drove down the street.

TBC…  
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Reviewers for Chapter 1:

**Bandit-Gurl42** - I'm glad you decided to check it out, too! OC's are usually very Sue-ish, and I try to avoid them, but sometimes they can be entertaining, and my aim is to make Jules as entertaining as possible. Hope you keep checking it out and thanks so much for reading and reviewing.

**Arantxa** - Since writing this story I have found a few Darry fics, but not many. I enjoy his character a lot and think it has a lot of possibilities to be fleshed out even more. He's definitely not a black and white character; lots of gray areas to work with. Thanks for reviewing!

**Tessie26** - I am enjoying your story "Unforgettable" so much, and I must confess that seeing your Darry sub-plot sort of gave me the courage to post this one. I knew at least one other person would be interested in a Darry/OFC story. So thanks for your review, cause you're really the reason I bothered posting in the first place!

**Julie **- More and more Darry fans are coming out of the woodwork! I'm glad you like it and I hope you'll stay tuned! Every chapter is going to be from Darry's POV and there's a lot more to come! Thanks for reviewing!


	3. Priorities

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._

**Author's Note:** This one is a little short, but there will be another chapter tomorrow, I promise. Thanks for reading and reviewing! More notes at the end.

**   
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 3: Priorities**

"Where'd you meet her? How come you didn't tell us about her? Are you dating her? How long have you known her? Where's she come from?"

I was bombarded with questions the second I walked back into the house and I had to talk myself out of taking one look at my brothers and Steve and turning around and walking right back outside again. Instead, I walked past them and started cleaning up the kitchen, and they just started repeating the same questions over and over again until it felt like my brain was gonna fall outta my head.

"It's late," I finally said in a brief instance of silence. Even my brothers had to take a breath on occasion. "Pony and Soda, you need to get to bed."

"Oh no, uh uh," Soda said, folding his arms across his chest. "We saw her kiss you before she left. You can't just not tell us _anything_!"

It crossed my mind to say I can and I ain't, but I wondered if they'd ever stop badgering me if I didn't at least come clean about something.

"The kiss was on the cheek," I settled for saying, focusing on tying up the full trash bag.

Soda and Steve began to giggle amongst themselves again and I decided I was done with explanations for the night. "Excuse me, girls," I said, lugging the trash bag through the kitchen and toward the back door. I heard the television click on and was about to yell at Pony about it being too late for TV when I saw Two-Bit fling his jacket over a chair and settle in on the couch. Only Two-Bit would have his leather coat with him during a heat wave. He'll have his leather coat on when they bury him, sure as shootin'.

When I came back inside, Steve and Soda had relocated to the living room with Two-Bit and Pony was back at the table with his homework. It was nearly 10:30 and I'd be lucky to get my brothers in bed by midnight.

"Sounds like I missed the grand unveiling," Two-Bit announced at me, standing up and hooking his arms around my shoulders. He smelled like beer and sweat. I took hold of his arm and flipped him neatly over my back. He tucked and rolled, just like I'd taught him to a few years back and hopped to his feet without a hair out of place.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, throwing a glare Sodapop's way. Not surprisingly, it went completely unreceived.

"Of your new girlfriend!" Two-Bit shouted jovially.

Even Pony looked up and laughed. He was tapping his pencil against his book which usually meant he wasn't paying any mind to what he was reading no matter how much it looked like it. It took me a while to figure out but it was his real clever way of eavesdropping.

"She's not my girlfriend!" I said, and boy I was getting frustrated. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered me so much if I could figure out why I was so fascinated with Jules but I couldn't and I didn't need those boys on my back about it either.

"She lives in those apartments, the ones we're re-roofing," I finally divulged, and the boys calmed down long enough to listen. "She made me move the ladder so she could get into her apartment one day, that's how I met her."

Steve was nodding as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "She's got all these, whatta ya call em?"

"Superstitions," Pony supplied.

"Superstitions," he told Two-Bit. "She made Darry move the ladder on account 'a she won't walk under one. And she's gotta drive into the DX from the north side and leave from the south or she thinks her car'll break down or somethin'."

Two-Bit hooked his fingers into his belt loops and eyed me somethin' fierce. "Sounds like the kinda broads I'm always attractin'," he said after a pause. "The crazy ones!"

Steve cracked up again and all I could do was thump him on the back while he was doubled-over. "Don't you got your own home to go to?" I asked, but I knew it was futile. Steve and Two-Bit were characters and sometimes there was nothing you could do but ignore 'em.

Man, it was hot in the house. I took off my over shirt and opened a window. Not that it'd help much. There wasn't a breeze to be wished upon; everything outside was dark and still. The heat just blanketed us. Soda's hand on my shoulder startled me and I forced myself to stop thinking about the heat.

"I liked her anyway," he announced. Pony who chimed in with, "She was real nice."

My brothers may not have felt the need to get to bed but I sure did, for nothing if not for some peace and quiet. I walked through the kitchen and pointed what I hoped was a threatening finger at my younger brothers. "Not too late," I said gruffly. Then I looked at Two-Bit and Steve who had stopped laughing but looked about to burst at any moment. "She's not my girlfriend," I said for good measure, and heard the two boys release their guffaws as I stalked toward my bedroom.

* * *

Sometimes if I got up early enough, I would catch Pony on the back porch, smoking cigarettes and watching the sunrise. I don't have time to watch the sunrise, but after Dally and Johnny died, Pony rounded us up one morning and made us. Then he made us watch a sunset, and we all sort of started looking at them more.

We wouldn't have done it (well, Soda would have, but the rest of us would have complained or flat refused), except Pony showed us Johnny's letter. After that, I tried real hard to listen to Pony more and not be so quick to dismiss everything as a waste of time. But Pony had to understand, when you're working as much as I am to support not only him and Soda but Two-Bit and Steve too half the time, you gotta prioritize, and sunrises and sunsets get pushed pretty low on the list.

So do girls, and so should Jules but somehow she was still on my mind.

I was real surprised to see Pony on the back porch the next morning on account that they got to bed real late. He wasn't even dressed, only wearing his boxers and a thin t-shirt and I didn't really blame him. It was still hot as blazes. I made a cup of coffee and took a clean pair of his jeans from my closet before heading out there. It was something I never woulda done before Johnny died, but I'm trying now. Plus, Mrs. Blake next door would be out watering her bougainvillea any minute and she'd holler at Ponyboy somethin' awful if he didn't get dressed.

"Here kid," I said, tossing the jeans on his head. The screen door on the other side of the fence slammed shut at the same time ours did, and we could see the curly gray top of Mrs. B's head as she unraveled her hose. Pony slipped the pants on.

"I'm surprised you're up," I said, sipping my coffee. I was already showered, shaved and dressed, but it hadn't been easy when my alarm sounded at half past five.

Pony shrugged. "Too hot to sleep."

He wasn't woofin'. The sun wasn't even all the way up yet and my shirt was sticking to my back. Still, I knew if my crew worked their butts off we could be done with the apartment complex by the end of the week. Finishing jobs quickly means taking more jobs on which means more money.

Pony had been quiet for a while and he seemed so fixated on the changing colors of the horizon I didn't want to bother him. I got up, having every intention of starting breakfast before I had to pick Soda up out of bed and dump him under an ice cold shower to wake him up. Don't think I wouldn't; I've done it before.

"So that girl, Jules, I'm not gonna razz you about her, I just wanna know about her."

When I turned back, Pony was gazing at me, leaning against the porch rail. My fist instinct was to tell him to mind his own business and get off the rail before he falls right off the edge. But he's always bugging me to trust him more, not treat him like a baby all the time, so I took a leap of faith and sat on the step with my coffee in hand.

"What do you wanna know?" I asked. "I don't know much."

"How long have you known her?" Ponyboy started.

I shrugged. "I met her a few days ago, on the job site like I told you. She asked me to help her install a deadbolt on her door which is how we got to talking. I honestly hadn't figured on seein' her again but she showed up here last night. That's it, Pony. Swear."

I sorta wanted him to drop it, but I shoulda known better. He was scrutinizing me, and any other day I woulda told him to cut it out and banged inside. But maybe it was good to talk about how confused she made me. And if I could trust anyone not to laugh at me or blab it around, it was Ponyboy.

He'd have been so happy if he knew I was thinkin' that. But I didn't tell him.

"Do you like her?" he asked finally.

Mrs. Blake was spraying her bougainvillea. I watched for a minute then sighed.

"I guess maybe a little," I said honestly. "She's different from everyone else and doesn't try to hide it."

Pony was nodding. "She seems to like you, too."

I considered this. "That part's different too," I admitted. It had been a long time since I'd been in any position to meet girls, much less talk to them long enough for one of them to like me. Sure, there were girls down at the DX all the time, but the girls down there had one thing on their minds, especially now that Sandy was gone: Sodapop.

I glanced at Pony and shrugged, offering him a discontented grin. Golly, Pony and I talking like this, it was unprecedented. I half expected to wake up any second, sweltering in bed, late because my alarm didn't go off. Ponyboy was smiling back at me.

"I think you should go out with her," he said with finality.

I had to laugh. "Oh you do?" I asked, standing up and ruffling his hair. I heard the screen door slam and Steve start yelling for Soda to rise and shine. "Where do you suppose I'd get the time to do that, kiddo?"

Ponyboy was grinning when he walked past me and put his hand on the screen door. "Guess you're just gonna have to start trustin' me and Soda to stay alone at night."

I thought of how they'd probably eat chocolate cake for dinner and Pony might never finish his homework and no chores would ever get done. Steve and Soda would invite girls over and Two-Bit would naturally show up like he always does, and before I knew it, they'd have an honest to goodness party going on. I shook my head and walked in behind him, heading to the kitchen to start breakfast. My personal life would just have to wait.

TBC…

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Reviewers for Chapter 2:

**Robot In Disguise - **Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you're liking it. You hit the nail on the head about Darry, too.

**Kacey**** - **I know that all three Curtis brothers are considered very handsome and I'd never think or try to imply otherwise! The story is from Darry's POV, so he'd have to be thinking he was handsome for me to write it that way, and I just don't think he'd do that. The way the story was supposed to read was that Darry had told Jules that Soda was handsome (since that's what most people say/notice about him first) and he was a little jealous when she reiterated it right in front of him. Thanks for reviewing, it means so much that you gave me your thoughts and that you're enjoying the story!

**Bandit-Gurl42** - I'm really glad you're liking it. This chapter was a little shorter (don't get me all worried about the chapter lengths, darn you!) but next one is longer. I try to make them pretty even, but you know how it goes. I'm glad you think the gang is in character. It's hard to get even one of them right, much less all of them!

**Tessie**** - **You keep on writing Darry and I'll keep on writing Darry and pretty soon we'll take over the world! Muwhahaha! Just kidding, girlie. Thanks for the feedback.

**Jessie13** - Thanks a lot! I enjoyed "Glory, What Now?" a whole lot. Dally is a hard character for me to wrap my head around, so I have a lot of respect for anyone who writes a story centered around him. Keep up the great work.

**Sodapop's#1gurl - **I'm glad you're reading and thanks for reviewing. Yes, there's lots more to come.

**Oblivious Misconception** - I think it's physically impossible for me to write romance with no angst, so never fear, we won't fall into fluff around here! I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far and I agree with you; Darry has so much to offer. As I said before, he is a character with a whole lot of potential. Thanks so much for your thoughts.

**pisiform** - It's pretty fun to write Darry's POV on everyone. Especially with Pony -- it gives you the "other side of the story". Thanks for reviewing!


	4. Broken

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1.  
  
  
  
  
  
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**Not Today  
Chapter 4: Broken**

I'll admit it; I knocked on Jules' door once before we finished roofing her complex. She wasn't home, which sorta made it easier although I couldn't ignore my disappointment. Pony and Soda asked about her a few times but I just kept telling them what I was telling myself: I don't have time for a girlfriend.

Eventually, they quieted down about it but I could tell they were disappointed. After two or three days, Steve stopped spouting off about her ridiculous superstitions whenever I was around and I thought everything was going back to normal.

Something stuck with me, though. I mean something more than just her eyes which I imagined would stick with anyone. It was what she'd said, her theory. Maybe she didn't need me. Maybe I needed her. I never told anyone about that but sometimes late at night, when the whole house was silent except for Soda's snoring, I thought maybe she was right.

The heat wave hadn't broken and it looked like we were going for a record of seven straight days of temperatures above one hundred. Pony and Two-Bit were grumping around and I was finally making up that Tuna Helper when Steve and Soda banged in the door.

Soda came around one side of the kitchen and Steve came around the other like they were cornering me, which I don't like at all. Not too bright, those two, because if I were to hit either one with the pan I was holding, it was liable to kill them.

"Hey Muscles, guess who we saw at the DX today," Steve began. They all call me Superman or Muscles at one time or another, but Steve likes to do it most. I was too annoyed with having to cook up the Tuna Helper to even bother with playing guessing games so I didn't answer at all.

Soda's disappointment was palpable. "She even pulled in from the north side and everythin'!" he announced, sending Steve into a fit of laughter.

I looked up from the stove. It had been a week since Jules had come over with the Chinese food, a week since she'd told me maybe I needed her, and I hadn't seen her since. I don't like to think about stuff and it seemed like she was all I was thinking about. I couldn't even begin to imagine how much time I'd wasted just thinking. I was turning into Ponyboy.

"It was Jules," Soda said in case I hadn't figured it out. He grabbed a handful of uncooked noodles from the box and was popping them into his mouth one by one. To Two-Bit and Pony he said, "You remember Darry's friend Jules?"

Pony only nodded and Two-Bit put his finger next to his head and twirled it in a circle.

"She ain't crazy," I started to defend, but realized it wasn't worth the effort.

Two-Bit was chuckling and he put a hand on my shoulder. "Jus' kidding," he said in a mock serious tone, before pointing to Steve who was just composing himself. "I jus' like to get this monkey all riled up."

"How's she been?" Pony asked, leaning in the doorway and making a face at the Tuna Helper box. "You haven't seen her since she was over here, right Darry?"

"That's right."

Steve frowned. "Not much of a girlfriend now is she?"

I was about to remind him exactly why they insist on calling me Muscles, but hell, it wasn't worth it. I didn't even bother correcting him, and Soda said, "She asked about you, Darry."

I tried to sound uninterested. "Hmmm."

"Told her you were workin' a lot, same as always. She said that's a shame, we talked about how miserable the heat is. What else, Steve?"

Steve had his head stuck in the refrigerator and he emerged with a beer. "You invited her over for dinner tonight, oh and she went on a date with a guy from school. A guy in nursing school! I didn't know they let guys be nurses."

"They even let 'em be secretaries," Ponyboy chimed in, and Two-Bit whopped him over the head.

"No they don't!"

I couldn't even keep track of who was talking about what because something was stuck in my head. "You invited her over for dinner?!" I finally ground out, directing my question to Soda since he was the only one not involved in the can-guys-be-nurses argument.

Soda nodded casually and glanced at the clock. "Oh yeah, should be here in…twenty minutes?"

I looked at the Tuna Helper sitting on the stove and tried to talk myself out of the anxiety that was suddenly feeling. There was nothing I could do about the menu but I could definitely downsize the company.

The first thing I did was pull Soda away from the argument he'd cheerfully joined and warn him in my meanest voice not to ever invite people over without asking me. He said, "People? Or just _girls_," which earned him a wallop over the head. Then I announced that Two-Bit and Steve were going to the nightly double and Pony and Soda needed to start straightening up the house.

Everyone complained that it sure had turned into a lotta work considering I wasn't even barely friends with this girl, but Steve and Two-Bit left and Soda and Pony shoved the clothes that were scattered around the house into the hampers and emptied out all the ashtrays and I felt a whole lot better.

* * *

It sorta bothered me that I was so anxious. I didn't want to be, and the fact that I was and couldn't control it, well, it bugged me. When Jules got to our house everyone was all smiles and I couldn't figure out why I felt so uneasy. Pony and Soda were on their best behavior and far as I could tell, Jules was perfectly happy with Tuna Helper, although she did eat it with ketchup.

She started up a game of poker with me and Soda after dinner, and suggested playing for bets which wasn't a smart idea since I'm a real good poker player and Soda cheats somethin' awful. I told her that, and she only shrugged and dug a whole handful of pennies out of her purse and set them on the table. Soda grabbed our loose change jar and divvied up some money between him and I, and we started playing. Maximum bet: a nickel.

It was all goin' real well and I was honestly relaxing a little bit, so when Pony got up from the table and started hanging over Soda's shoulder instead of doing his math homework, I don't know what set me off. It started off with a simple request: "Let me look over that math if you're done with it."

I wasn't even really paying attention because I was holding a full house (Queens high) and about to win the "huge" pot in the center of the table (roughly four dollars in change).

"I'm not done," Pony said, and went back to whispering into Soda's ear, like it was perfectly all right for him to stop doing his homework before he was done with it.

Don't get me wrong, I let him take a break now and then, but he'd barely started, it was already late, and I just got done having a conference with his math teacher and promising her he'd try much harder.

"Pony, go finish your math," I said. Man, Jules and Soda were both unwilling to fold, and I was itchin' to see if either one of them thought they could bluff their way through this one.

If Pony listened to me all the time, well, we wouldn't fight as much as we do, now would we? Still, lots of times he just grumbles but eventually does what I ask him to. Lately though, since Johnny and Dally died, he not only doesn't listen but gets smart with me about what I'm asking him to do. Like he's always comparing himself with Soda, asking why I don't get on Soda's back all the time. Trust me, if Soda refused to go to work, I would.

This time he said, "I don't see why you and Soda get to sit here playing cards and I have to do homework."

That really rubbed me the wrong way. For one thing, we had company and I don't like him getting mouthy when we have company.

"Unfortunately for you kid, you're the only one around here who has homework, so quit talkin' back and go do it," I shot back at him.

Jules and Soda had lowered their hands and were just watching us now, and I could tell by Soda's apprehensive look that he was hoping this didn't turn into an all-out argument. I was hoping so too, but sometimes Pony's gotta get it through his thick head that I'm in charge, like it or not.

Pony's stubborn like the rest of us. He fixed a glare at me and said, "I'll do it after Jules leaves."

So then I got pretty mad. I'd forgotten all about the full house, and, I'll admit, about Jules and Soda watching us too, and I threw my cards down on the table and stood up. Pony stood up to his full height too, which is getting pretty close to Soda's but not near as tall as me. I could tell he thought maybe he shouldn't have said what he did because he glanced at Soda and his voice was a lot quieter when he said, "I'll do it later, Darry."

But I'm kinda hard to talk out of being mad once I've got it fixed in my mind that I'm mad. "You'll do it now," I insisted, jamming my finger into the table when I said 'now'. The pile of change rattled around and I realized we had been in the middle of something, and I also realized Jules was looking from me to Pony like she was at a tennis match.

Soda stood up. "C'mon Pony," he practically begged.

Soda's always our mediator, and if he asks one of us to lay off, we usually listen. He doesn't like taking sides, and he absolutely hates it when Pony and I fight. One time it got to him so bad he ran away, but after that we promised him we weren't gonna fight anymore. For me and Pony, that was like a couple of birds promising not to fly. It just didn't happen, but for a while it was better. And like I said before, I'm still trying harder to listen to Pony, and I think he's trying harder to understand that I have to work like a dog to make sure the bills get paid around here, but we'll always fight.

Especially about homework. He doesn't mind sitting down and doing an English paper, and he's always making good marks, but he seems to want to give up completely on math lately and he just can't. He ain't gonna get a scholarship, no matter how brainy he is in English, if he can't add and subtract.

He promised me he'd do better after I had that conference with his teacher not four days ago! He said, "I promise, Darry. I _promise._" He'd said it because he wanted to go to the Dingo with Soda and I was steaming about having to take time off work to go into his school and talk to his teacher. Soda got on me then and I went ahead and let Pony go, and now he pulls a stunt like this?

I not-so-calmly reminded him of that promise and he got real mad then. "God Darry, you're always on my back! I said I'll do it later! What business is it of yours if I do my math now or later, as long as I get it done?!"

"What business is it of mine?" I roared back, and boy did I forget Jules was in the room then. I'd like to think I never woulda hollered that bad if I remembered she was there, but I was so mad I couldn't see straight.

"It is not only my business but my responsibility to make sure you get that homework done in enough time for me to check it over and for you to get it right! Now I'm telling you to do it, you sit down and do it! Do not talk back to me again!"

Soda had gotten up from the table and he had his hand against Pony's chest and was practically pushing him back down in his chair. Pony went, and it was probably because Soda was begging him to, but maybe also because I can look pretty damn intimidating when I want to and I honestly felt like my eyes were gonna shoot daggers at him if he didn't do what I asked _right then._

When Pony was back in his chair and Soda had pulled up a chair alongside him, I banged right outta the living room and onto the front porch. It wasn't until I heard the screen door open and close quietly behind me did I remember Jules was there the whole time.

It takes a lot to embarrass me, but that little scene sure did the trick.

I had my arms folded and I was leaning against the post, and she came up and stood right next to me. She didn't say anything for a while, and we just stood there. It was probably past nine o'clock and it was still in the nineties. Other than the occasional dog barking and the drone of the TV from the neighbor's house, the night was silent. It was even too hot for the crickets.

I heard her exhale before she spoke.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Craning my neck to see in the kitchen window, I could just barely see Soda's back hunched over the dining room table, and knew Pony must be right next to him, working on his homework. I didn't know what Soda thought he was doing, he couldn't help Pony a lick, but maybe just being there was helping Pony plenty.

"Sure," I said, uncrossing my arms and following Jules down the porch steps.

We walked to the park without really meaning to. Jules wasn't familiar with the area (she said she'd never been on this side of the park) and it was just natural for me to head that way from my house. When we got to the fountain we stopped, and I sat down on the edge of it, grateful for the occasional spray of water on my back. Jules sat next to me and I stared at the spot I imagined Johnny probably stabbed Bob, and at the tree under which Dally died.

Without planning on it, I started to tell Jules the whole story. From the night Pony got jumped and made plans with Dally and Johnny to go to the nightly double to the day Pony brought home his essay, entitled "The Outsiders", in which he'd written our entire story.

I don't know how long it took me, but I just talked and she just listened. She didn't even interrupt with questions. After I got done, it was real quiet. She slipped her hand into mine and folded her fingers around my palm, and I could see her looking at our hands. She turned mine over and over in hers, just looking at it, every little detail. My hands are big and tough; I get a lot of calluses from working so hard every day and half the time I don't wear gloves because of the heat. Dad always told me rough hands are the sign of a hard-working man, so I was sort of proud of them. I started wondering what she was thinking.

"I have a theory," she said, and I nearly burst out laughing. She had stopped looking at our hands and was now looking into my eyes, and I wondered if I'd stopped breathing for a moment. "You've had every rough break you can get," she continued, not looking away. "Things have to start getting easier now."

I blinked. "That's your theory?"

She nodded earnestly, and I couldn't help but smile. "That's not a theory," I said. "That's wishful thinking."

"No." She shook her head and her hand squeezed mine. "It's like this heat. It gets bad enough, it's gotta break. Something has to change."

I don't know if it just just then that I noticed the weather had dropped a few degrees since we'd been out here, or if I was just imagining it because of her crazy theory. I looked down at my lap, and when I glanced back up again, her eyes hadn't left me. "It's good to believe that," I said honestly.

It was like Pony with his daydreams. I didn't want to take those away from him, but sometimes you have to face the cold hard facts that are the real world. And that's where Pony and I diverged. He spent too much time with his head in the clouds, and I, apparently, didn't stick mine in the clouds enough.

Nothing could ever convince me that wishing something would happen but not knowing if it actually will is anything but a colossal waste of time. Not even Jules. Not even the way she was looking at me just then. Not even those eyes.

Things got quiet again, and even the fountain seemed to have hushed itself just for us. Maybe that fuzzy feeling was coming back, the one that I got the other night when she kissed me on the porch. Maybe that was why everything seemed to be dimming. Her face was real close to mine -- was it always that close? -- and I couldn't really concentrate on anything else.

"I'm sorry for the fight," I said quietly, real quietly because I thought I might get in trouble for talking too loud in this muted haze. "We shouldn't 'a done that in front of you."

Her other hand, the one that wasn't entwined with mine, went up to my face and she pressed her palm against my neck, and I felt her fingernails brush the hair that curled around my ear.

"Shh," was what she said back.

Then her lips were on mine and I couldn't think anymore, not about anything except for how good it felt to be this close to someone again. Maybe the kiss only lasted seconds…maybe it lasted minutes, I don't know. I just know I hated it when she pulled away, and loved it when she smiled shyly and dipped her head like she was embarrassed about the whole thing.

Then she tilted her face up, and at first I didn't understand why. She let go of my hand, stood up and held her arms out to either side of her. I watched, confused, until I felt the first drop of rain hit my face.

"The heat wave," she said, turning around in a circle as rain started to form a steady drizzle. I looked up and saw clouds that had somehow moved in when I wasn't paying attention. "The heat wave," she said again, tipping her face down and grinning at me. She was quickly getting soaked, and so was I.

"It's broken," I finished for her, taking her into my arms and turning her in dizzying circles.

TBC…

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Reviewers for Chapter 3:

Wow, I never expected to get so much positive feedback! Thanks guys! It definitely keeps the muses going. I'm trying to respond to everyone because one - I'm a chatterbox and I always have so much to say to fellow Outsiders fans and two - I really, really appreciate every review, the short ones, the long ones, all of them. If you want to drop by and write me a paragraph or just one line, I love it all!

**Langley** - I am very glad you took a shot on my story even though you haven't found many gems here on I find that they're like sale racks. There's good stuff around, but sometimes you have to dig. wink Darry seems to have a lot of fans coming out of the woodwork, and if my little story can bring to light that he has a ton of fans lurking around, well then that's just icing on the cake! Thanks so much for the review, I hope you keep reading.

**Raggedy Anne** - Only read the book a month ago and you're already around this thread! That's great. I read the book years and years ago, and have re-read it several times every year since, and I still find myself picking it up on a rainy day and reading it again. Hopefully it becomes that addictive to you. And yes, he is a very underappreciated character, simply because Pony has the most conflict with him and the book is completely from Pony's POV. So I'm trying to bring more depth to the character. Thank you for dropping by!

**Sodapops#1gurl** - Are we on the same page or what? You probably chuckled at the part in this chapter when Darry thinks, "I'm starting to act like Ponyboy." I swear I had that written before I read your review, and it cracked me up that we were thinking along the same lines. I am trying to use Jules to help Darry draw parallels between him and both Pony and Soda. It's real tough to right a Darry POV fic if we're supposed to believe he never thinks about anything all the time, so I'm glad you are finding it realistic even though it does make him seem more like Pony.

**Julie** - When I first saw your name on your first review, I chuckled. I don't write OC's very often, so I have a tough time coming up with names. I try to think of the character and pick a name that will fit her. The original draft of this story had her name as Joanie, but I kept thinking of Joanie Mitchell and it was really messing up my head. Julia seemed pretty and feminine, yet the nickname Jules could sort of portray her in a more wild and carefree light. Yes, a lot of thought went into it, and I do think you have a very pretty name. Thanks for reviewing!

**kaz456** - I am glad to be helping bring depth to Darry's character. That is my whole aim for this story, although since he is not fleshed out much in the book, everyone has such a different view of him. That's what makes me nervous posting a Darry-centric story, but it looks like everyone's enjoying it so I guess I can relax! Thanks for chiming in!

**Bandit-Gurl42­ - **Okay, I won't worry about the length of the chapters. I suppose that's futile. I say what I gotta say however long it takes me to say it, right? wink Thanks for your thoughts, I'm glad you're liking it.

**Arantxa** - Thanks! Keep reading and I'm glad you're enjoying!

**Tessie**** - **Hey girl, thanks for stopping by again. As you'll see in the next chapter, I'm trying to balance Darry's availability of free time really carefully. We can't complain he only works if all he does is have free time in the stories, right? It's a tough job, but I'm trying to make it all come out realistic. Waiting patiently on that chapter of Unforgettable. Stop reading and start writing!

**Jessie13** - I'm so glad you think everyone's in character. It's one of my biggest fears is to have someone go, "Um, that didn't sound like so and so at all!" Yikes. I read the book over and over and over (and even read parts while I'm writing to make sure I'm getting the tone of the character down right) so I try real hard. I'm glad you think it's paying off. Keep reading and reviewing!


	5. Pony's Logic

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._

**   
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 5: Pony's Logic**

  
"Darry?"

I'd gotten back to the house real late and both Pony and Soda were standing on the porch with their arms folded across their chests. They didn't say anything to me at first, just stood there and I thought maybe that's how I look when I'm fixing to come down so hard on Pony that I have to take a few minutes to figure out just how I'm gonna do it for the maximum impact.

They didn't say anything when I put Jules in her car, not even about me leaning in and kissing her on the forehead before she drove off. They didn't say anything about how we both were soaked to the bone and smiling about it like crazy people. It wasn't until we got into the house and I started to tell them to just save it, when Pony started in about me leaving and not telling them where I was going. It was irresponsible and I just didn't think and how dare I make them worry like that?

I didn't even bother with the whole I'm an adult and you're not rebuttal. I just took it. Now I know how Soda feels when he's trying real hard not to laugh while I'm lecturing him.

"Darry? Soda, he's in bed still. I think he's sick."

Right. Pony had been trying to get my attention for a while now. I wasn't in bed _still_. I was in bed _again_. I'd already been up, showered, shaved and dressed, but I hadn't even started making the eggs when my foreman called and said we weren't working today. It was supposed to storm all day.

"I'm up, Pony," I said, still buried in my pillow. "I ain't working today."

I heard Soda's shrill yell just before he took a flying leap and landed right on top of me. He knocked the breath outta me, that's for sure. "He ain't sick!" Soda yelled out, ruffling my hair. I hadn't greased it yet, but it'd combed it up real nice after my shower. He put his knees on either side of me, trapping me where I lay. "Except maybe lovesick!"

Pony landed on top of us with a muted _mmph_ and knocked the wind outta me again before both my brothers dissolved into hysterical laughter. I let them calm down enough to become bone-heavy on top of me, then I poked Pony in the ribs. Pony's real ticklish. He yelped and kicked out, hitting Soda in the stomach. My mission was accomplished. They'd shifted enough so that I could wiggle out from underneath, and once I was standing, I grabbed two corners of the bed quilt and yanked it as hard as I could. Both my brothers tumbled to the ground in a heap of curses and complaints.

That's what they get for trying to tackle me.

"You," I pointed at Soda, "have to be at work in twenty minutes." Fun and games was over. If Soda was late one more time this week, no amount of looks and charm would get him by with his boss. As Soda stood, I noticed he was already in his jeans, socks and a white t-shirt, which meant he only needed his DX shirt and shoes. That was good progress considering where Soda usually is with twenty minutes until he's expected at work.

Pony stood up as well, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. He had no shirt on, no socks or shoes either, but I wasn't too worried. He had a little more time before school and he wasn't half as hard as Soda was to get moving in the morning. "I'll drop you off at school, Pony," I said, running my hand through my hair. "I'm gonna try to get some work on the new gymnasium today."

Soda put his hand on my shoulder. "Or you could take the day off, Darry!" he said jovially, and I must have had a look on my face because he cracked up laughing and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Crazy, I know!"

I ignored him and pointed at Pony. "Shirt. Shoes. Let's go."

Pony had his hands hooked into his pockets, the way he sometimes looks when he's getting an idea. I didn't know if he was okay about last night or if he was still sore at me or what. He answered that question when he smiled at me. "You know, Dar, you could take breakfast over to Jules' house or meet her for lunch or somethin'. I mean, it ain't every day you get a day off."

I figured they know me well enough to know the answer to that, so I didn't even bother saying no before I picked up the quilt and started making up the bed. My brothers didn't understand why I did that -- why waste your time making up the bed when you're just gonna sleep in it again, Soda asked -- but it was just something I had tried to start doing since mom and dad died. Plus, I told Soda that logic was like saying you ain't gonna do the dishes or brush your teeth because you were gonna just dirty em up again. I shoulda known Soda woulda thought that was a good idea.

When I made my way out to the kitchen, I found Steve already rummaging around in our icebox for cake. I ruffled the top of his head, messing up his careful hairdo. He cursed loudly at me and reached out for a swing, but I was already on the other side of the room. I figured I had to get my digs in now, because it was only a matter of time before Soda told Steve about last night and Steve'd start in on me about Jules somethin' awful.

Soda had one shoe on and was running around trying to find the other one. I pointed at the clock and he muttered, "I know, I know," before disappearing under the dining room table. He emerged with his other shoe and a huge grin. They now had ten minutes to get to work.

Steve was fixing his hair in the mirror and Soda gave me a playful punch in the stomach. "Think about what Pony said," he offered, eyes twinkling. "Girls dig that sort of stuff."

With a series of yells and acrobatic flips, Steve and Soda disappeared out the door and I heard Steve's car squeal off down the street. As an afterthought, I hoped Steve hadn't let Soda drive. While they could use all the extra time they could get, Soda driving in this kind of weather was just asking for disaster.

Pony and I were in the truck ten minutes later and I pulled him around to the front of the school, close as I could get him without driving onto the lawn. Pony pulled the hood of his jacket over his head as he opened the door.

"Hey, come up and visit at the new gym at lunch if you want to," I said, rummaging through the glove compartment and coming up with a crumpled dollar bill. "Bring us some sandwiches."

Pony looked at the dollar bill and then at me, and he had this expression that I wasn't entirely used to. "Why don't you take some time off?" he asked. "Go see Jules."

I examined the steering wheel of the truck before answering. I held up one finger. "One, because I don't have the faintest clue of what her schedule's like today." I held up another finger. "Two, because we need the money I'm losing today by not roofing." I held up a third finger. "Three, why are you and Soda pushing this so hard?"

Pony grinned. "She's real sweet on ya, Darry, and it seems like she makes you happy. If you're happy when you're around her then you should be around her more often."

Pony's logic doesn't usually make me grin, but this time it did. I often thought Pony's logic was rooted firmly in wishes and dreams rather than reality and I always was telling him that sometimes we do what we want to, but mostly we do what we have to. Still, Pony was grinning back at me. I only shook my head and put my hand on his arm.

"Have a good day at school, little buddy."

I think I'd only called him little buddy one time before. It was usually reserved for Soda. Pony's grin was so wide and genuine, even the soaking rain couldn't wipe it off as he loped across the lawn and into the school. He'd left the crumpled dollar bill on the seat.

* * *

I like my coffee black. There's this little diner close to the school that makes really good coffee, but I usually can't justify spending the money when I can just brew my own at home. I turned the truck into the diner's parking lot instead of driving up and around to the back of the school and took the dollar bill Pony had left before I went inside.

I got two large black coffees and stuffed my jacket pockets with sugar packets and those little cups of cream. Then I drove over to Jules' apartment complex and couldn't help but think I bet the owner was glad he'd gotten the place re-roofed now. You didn't want an old, broken down roof in a storm like this.

I was soaked by the time I got to the overhang in front of her apartment door. I started second-guessing what I was doing there anyway. I shoulda gone to work.

Jules answered the door in a towel, hair dripping wet. I looked away quickly but she just laughed and pulled me inside. We stood there, dripping on her floor, and we musta been a sight. It was the second time in less than twelve hours that I'd been standing around with her, soaked through.

"I'm having a strange sense of déjà vu," she said laughing. Then she crossed one arm over her chest to hold the towel in place and lifted the coffee I was balancing out of my hands. "Is one of these for me?"

"Yeah." I pulled the sugar and cream from my jacket pocket and made a little pile on the table where she'd set the coffee. It was covered with books, papers, bills and a calculator; much like my dining room table looked on any given night. The rest of the apartment was neat; much the opposite of the rest of my house on any given night. "I didn't know how you take it," I said. Or if you even drink coffee. Or if you'd even be home. I left those last parts out.

"With milk, but thanks, that was sweet," she said. Her smile was genuine and I had to smile back. I almost forgot about the fact that I was dripping all over her entryway.

"Take your jacket off and hang it over there," she said, gesturing toward a coat rack. "Do you need a towel?"

I was real glad I hadn't ended up greasing my hair, because getting drenched in the rain with grease in your hair is a nightmare. I nodded at the towel, and she looked down as if she just remembered that was all she was wearing. I wasn't sure where to look. It wasn't like the towel wasn't big enough. It was roughly the size of Texas and was covering everything she possibly wouldn't want me to see. Still, there's something…temporary…about a towel.

"I'll go get dressed," she said, without a hint of embarrassment.

I watched as she walked down the hall. The towel was hanging below her shoulder blades and her skin looked real soft and smooth there. If she woulda looked back, she woulda caught me staring. But she didn't.

I didn't like when she left me alone. I took off my jacket and boots, and felt a little less detrimental to her cozy apartment, but when there was nothing to do but wait for her to come back, I started thinking about how I really should be getting work. It wasn't like me to be so irresponsible. I took most Sundays off and had once gone skiing with some old buddies for a few days. But that had been right after mom and dad died and I hadn't quite had time to realize the gravity of the situation my brothers and I were in. We're not completely broke, but I have to watch the money real carefully and work six days a week if we're gonna be able to pay all the bills and eat every month.

Plus, Pony doesn't know, but I put ten dollars every month into a savings account for him. I got an athletic scholarship to college and mom and dad still couldn't afford for me to go. Other stuff costs money, even if they are willing to pay your tuition. You've still got books and housing and living expenses. I don't want that to happen to him.

Jules came back into the living room holding two towels. One she handed to me and the other she used to squeeze the length of her hair dry. She looked real good in the red top she was wearing. It was one of those off-the-shoulder deals and she had real nice shoulders. I dried off my hair as much as I could without messing it up too much. I wasn't about to ask her for a comb.

I watched as Jules walked over to her big picture window and pulled the blinds. It wasn't much of a view -- I could see where I'd parked my truck in the parking lot -- but if you craned your neck real good you could see a little bit of the park. Today it was all gray skies and rain, and she smiled at it like it was the most beautiful, clear day she'd ever seen.

"I assume this is the reason you're standing in my living room and not on a roof somewhere," she said, gesturing to the window.

I nodded, but I was feeling real guilty. "I should go…"

Her smile disappeared fast. "You're delivering coffee and that's it?" she asked doubtfully. "Doesn't sound like something Darrel Curtis would waste his time doing."

I had to smile at that one. It _wasn't_ something Darrel Curtis would waste his time doing. And I wasn't about to tell her this, but seeing her in a towel had sorta made the trip worth it, even if I was gonna force myself to go back to work instead of goofing off the whole day.

"I can get some work on the new gymnasium they're building at the high school," I said by way of explanation.

She wasn't biting. "You were gonna goof off today," she said, eying me closely. "I can tell. You've got that guilty look in your eyes."

When I didn't answer, her grin softened. "It's okay, Darry. You aren't going to be struck down by lightening if you take a day off now and then. That's why they call it goofing off. It's fun!"

Her voice lilted up when she said the last part and I was reminded of Soda for some reason. "It's fun" would be a perfectly reasonable excuse to do anything in Soda's book. In fact, it didn't matter what you were doing; you could be watching paint dry or figuring out advanced geometry, and if you told Soda you were having fun doing it, he'd take your word for it and be happy that you were having a good time.

"I have two very big mouths to feed," I defended, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Jules wasn't having any of it. She crooked her hand into my elbow and trailed her fingers down my forearm until she was pulling on my wrist, forcing me to take my hands out of my pockets. When I did, she tucked her hand into one of mine and dragged me toward the kitchen.

"Okay, let's compromise. You brought over this coffee, so let's drink it. I'll make some breakfast and then you can give me a ride to school, how's that sound?"

I was too busy trying to look composed to answer. When she touched me like that, I swear I trembled from my head to my toes. She let go of my hand and picked up one of the coffees, taking it with her into the kitchen. She added milk, snapped the lid back on top and took a sip with a large smile. "And before you beg off, let me tell you that I don't drive my car in weather like this because the brakes tend to flood. I was going to try to take the bus, but who wants to do _that_ in this weather either? It's fate that you came over, so that you could take me to school."

"It's not fate," I said quickly, ignoring the twinkle in her eyes. She knew she was riling me up, but I couldn't _not_ say anything. "It's not fate!" I said again. "You drive a car that sits low to the ground, and the brakes might flood in this kind of weather. It's basic mechanics is what it is."

She arched an eyebrow much like Two-Bit. "But you came over without me calling and asking for a ride or anything. Fate didn't want me to take the bus."

I laughed at that one. If there was such a thing as fate, I was pretty sure it wasn't worried about whether or not Jules had to take the bus. "I came over because…"

I stopped myself and hesitated. What was the answer to that? Because Pony and Soda made me? Because I can't stop thinking about you? There was no way I was giving either one of those reasons.

"Temporary lapse in sanity?" she finished for me.

I shook my head, but she only laughed. "It's okay, Darry," she said, pulling bread, eggs, milk and butter from the refrigerator. "I'm glad you came over, and you're just going to have to put your misgivings aside because I'm making my famous French toast."

I hadn't eaten yet that morning, and my stomach rumbled at the thought of it. If she needed a ride to school, I figured I'd give her one. And if that meant getting to the gymnasium an hour late, well it would just have to suffice. Three-quarters of a day's work was better than no work at all, I supposed.

The French toast was real good. I told her about Soda's habit of cooking with color. She seemed to think this was a novel idea and got up from her seat to search the pantry for food coloring. She looked delighted when she realized she had some, and set the box out on the counter. I realized I'd created a monster. She and Soda probably had tons in common, at least when it came to their idea of fun.

"Sodapop's right up your alley, ain't he?"

I hadn't meant it like that.

She looked sharply at me as she walked back into the dining room. Before she took her seat next to mine, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "_You're_ right up my alley," she said firmly. Then she went right back to eating her breakfast.

It made me feel real good when she did that. Not that it had even crossed my mind to be jealous of Sodapop, because I wasn't. I'm not a jealous person by nature, and I never had any trouble getting girlfriends when I was in high school. I was real popular, kinda the way I think Soda would be if he hadn't dropped out and we hadn't been labeled 'greasers' by everyone in town. Before mom and dad died, Soda and I double-dated a lot. We don't usually go for the same type of girl, but one time we dated sisters. That ended real quick when they found out that Soda had dumped the younger one's best friend only the week before.

I liked sitting at Jules' table eating breakfast and I even liked helping her do up the dishes afterwards. She kept up a steady stream of chatter, and I'm pretty used to that, but the difference was that she asked me all kinds of stuff about myself, and I'm not used to that. I'd even forgotten, just for a moment, that I probably should have been working.

When Jules started sorting through the piles of books and papers on her table to pack her book bag, I started feeling guilty again. I don't know if maybe along with all these superstitions and theories and stuff, Jules can read minds too, because she put her hand on my shoulder and smiled up at me, real sweet.

"I really, really appreciate you giving me this ride, Darry. Don't be so hard on yourself for missing out on some work. Taking time off isn't worth it if you don't enjoy it."

"Is that another theory of yours?" I couldn't help but ask.

She finished packing her bag and slung it over her shoulder, grinning at me. "It's not a theory, it's a simple fact."

She happened to have two umbrellas in her closet so we each used one as we ran out to the truck. It helped a lot, and when we were shut inside, with the rain hammering on the roof and thick rivulets of water running down the windshield, she leaned over and kissed me. Just like that. It wasn't all deep and passionate, but it was more than just a thanks-for-doing-this kind of kiss, I could tell by the way she fiddled with her book bag afterwards and wouldn't look at me.

I started up the truck and licked my lips. She tasted like syrup.

When I pulled up in front of the college, it was deserted. She had the umbrella poised and ready to open as soon as she got out, but she turned to me first and tilted her head. Golly, she looked young when she did that.

"I had fun this morning," she said earnestly. "I'm glad you came by."

"I'm glad I did, too," I said, and I meant it. My watch said it was a quarter after ten, and yes, I could have been working for the last hour and forty-five minutes, but everything that Jules had said and done made it completely worth the money I'd lost out on. And sometimes money seemed like the only important thing in my life, beside my brothers of course, so it was a nice change to be thinking about something else.

"Do you need a ride home?" I asked suddenly. "I can be here around six."

She bit on her lower lip and nodded. "Yeah, thanks." Then she pushed her door open, and flipped the umbrella up as she jumped out of the truck. I watched her huddle against the rain, clutching her jacket together with one hand, the umbrella with the other. Her book bag flopped against her back like it was too heavy. I sighed. Sometimes it seemed like she was teaching me all the lessons, and sometimes I couldn't help but think she's just a kid.

TBC…

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**Reviewers for Chapter 4:**

Holy crap you guys sure had a lot to say! Thank you to each and every one of you who left comments, and thanks to those of you that are reading and not leaving comments, because I'm just glad you're reading. But you could leave a comment, you know, if you really wanted to. Sodapop would want you to. Ha ha. ((Takes a deep breath…)) Here goes.

**Jenna ** - I'm glad you're enjoying, and very excited that you noticed a relation to Darry and his brothers and Darry and Jules. I'm trying to do some parallels. Thanks for dropping by and giving me such a great review!

**Langley** - Hi again! It's a careful balance with making a relationship develop at a believable pace, because if you drag it out too long, people get bored, and if you shove it too quickly, it's unrealistic. I'm glad you think I'm doing a good job (so far) and I hope you'll stick with me through it. About Darry's fight with Pony…I think Darry was so frustrated that Pony had promised and then wanted to blow off his homework because they had company. Perhaps he was trying to take advantage of Darry's distraction… Ha. Thank you for the review and encouragement.

**Zack Anderson** - Thank you so much for leaving your thoughts! S.E. Hinton's heir -- ROFL!! I doubt that very seriously, but it's an honor that you even said it! I appreciate you taking the time to notice and mention the little parts of the story; the small humorous comments between the boys and stuff. Those are the details I'm most proud of and it's nice to know that someone else is noticing them and appreciating them too.

**JPSquire** - Thank you for your kind comments! The Pony/Darry fight was a difficult one for me to pull off because I needed it to happen but I wanted to make it realistic. I like to think Pony wouldn't have acted so unreasonable any other night, but like I mentioned to Langley, perhaps he was trying to take advantage of the situation. That was my thinking, anyway. Oh, and about clichés… I'm of the mind that anything can be done (even clichés) if its done well, and my biggest concern is doing this well. Thank you for stopping by and please leave more feedback as the story goes on!

**Bandit-Gurl42** - Hey again woman. I'm so glad you're connecting with Jules. ((whew)) I'm trying to make her very different from Darry, but underneath it all, the same. Uh, not the same, but you know, sharing values and stuff. Yeah, whatever, I can't write notes when I'm busy writing chapters. Ha. I'm glad you're liking each chapter. Stick with me, girly!

**Robot In Disguise** - Thanks for the note, and for answering **Raggedy Anne's** question. I hadn't put much thought into the time of year, I just knew that OK could get some pretty crazy weather like the rest of us!

**Raggedy Anne** - _Oh, oh it's magic!_ _You know!_ Sorry, I just chuckled at your comment. No, I'm not magic. Wanna know my secret? I don't post a chapter until I've got the next chapter finished. I didn't even start posting the story until I had at least chapters 1-3 done. Then I didn't post 3 until I had 4 done, 4 until I had 5 done, and so on. Patience is key. It gives me a comfortable window, so that I know if a chapter is giving me lots of trouble, I've always got a backup to post. I feel like it "buys" me more time. What? Other people don't do that? I'm a Type A freak? Oh well. I think **Robot In Disguise** answered your Tulsa question. If I'm not mistaken, it even snows there on occasion. City of Tulsa dot org has a section on winter preparedness. Yeah, I try to do research, too. Like I said, Type A. It's a sickness. Thanks for your thoughts!

**Sodapop's#1Gurl** - Hey girl. I think Darry's hittin' days are over, don't you? ;) I'm glad you liked the chapter. And it is my aim to keep the entire story in Darry's POV. Thanks for the review.

**Julie** - JULES! Well hi there! I'm glad you thought Darry and Pony's fight was believable! I didn't know how it would be received, since it's set after the book and what with Soda having gotten so upset and Darry and Pony making that promise. But like I said, asking Darry and Pony not to fight is like asking two birds not to fly! I think they're too different not to. Thanks for the feedback.

**Kaz456** - Well we're on the same wavelength, aren't we? I agree with you about Darry and Pony's truce. I think it's a matter of reigning it in before it gets as bad as it was in the book (with Darry hitting Pony). That's probably what Soda's most worried about. You gotta feel bad for the kid, always being stuck in the middle. ((hugs Soda)) Thanks for the review, and it means a lot to hear you say you think I'm getting Darry right. It ain't easy, what with a character who doesn't talk much and who we don't know much about.

**Tessie26** - ((hugs)) Hey woman. You liked how I wrote Pony? Well thanks! You share Jules' theory of things getting so bad something's gotta give, huh? I think we all need to believe that, or we'd just get too depressed to move. Ha ha. Start writing again, or I'll have to come after you. ((wink))

**Jessie13** - I'm glad you liked the chapter. I think Pony and Soda share your feelings on Darry having a girl. Maybe it'd get him off their backs for a change. ((grin)) Thanks for the review.

**pisiform** - It was my biggest intention for me to balance the fight out so that it didn't look like Darry was being unreasonable. Unfortunately, maybe I compensated too much and made Pony sound unreasonable, but I'm glad it came off somehow. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	6. Misconceptions

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._

**   
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 6: Misconceptions**

There were two lone figures outside the nursing school at five minutes after six o'clock, and I knew immediately something was wrong. I didn't even bother shutting off the engine of the truck, I just pulled into the circular turn-around and jumped out.

The rain had let up a little bit; it was still drizzling but at least it didn't bite and sting at you the moment you stepped outside. Jules didn't have her umbrella and I wondered how long she'd been waiting because she was soaked through. The other person was a guy that looked to be Jules or my age wearing a tan jacket that really wasn't right for the weather. His hair was matted down to his forehead and maybe he'd been standing out there for a long time, too.

They were arguing, but that wasn't what concerned me. What concerned me was that Jules had her back to the brick wall of the building and the guy was cornering her, and pushing her every once in a while like he was trying to make his point. She looked okay, mad yeah, but not scared or anything, but still this guy rubbed me the wrong way. He shouldn't be treating a girl like that, no matter what they were arguing about.

I ran around the truck and up to Jules, who looked really relieved and went to step around the guy as soon as she saw me. The guy hadn't looked behind him, and I think if he had and seen me he wouldn't have grabbed her arm and tried to keep her from walking away. I'm kinda big and he kinda wasn't. But he didn't look behind him at all, he just seemed really irate that she was trying to walk away when he obviously wasn't done with whatever he was trying to say to her. So he grabbed her and that's when I lost it.

'Lost it' isn't really the right phrase. I didn't beat him up or anything. But I was furious because when he grabbed her, he yanked her back real hard and she cried out. She told me later that she yelled because she was startled, not hurt, but at the time it didn't matter. I just hauled off and hit him once.

Once was all it took. He went down to the soaked ground and was holding his face and yelling about how I broke his nose. I don't think I broke his nose, I think he was just shocked that someone punched him. Jules was totally shocked, 'cause she looked at me for a full thirty seconds with those big, wide eyes before scrambling into the truck.

I didn't want her to be scared of me, so the first thing I said when I got into the truck next to her was, "I'm sorry." Then I said, "Do you want me to make sure he's okay?"

I really, really didn't want to make sure he was okay. I couldn't have cared less if he laid on the sidewalk moaning about his nose all night. Luckily, she shook her head no and I took off. I drive kinda fast when I'm mad, so we got to my house pretty quickly. I'd meant to drive her home, but sometimes you just don't think and you automatically drive to wherever you're usually going. It's like when you move and you drive home from work the first day and accidentally go to the wrong house.

She said it was okay, and I really wanted to check on Soda and Pony so I took her in. She was all wet and shivering, and Soda went and got her a pair of jeans he said had belonged to Sandy. I didn't even want to know what Sandy's jeans were doing in his bedroom and not on Sandy's butt in Florida where they belonged. I didn't say anything and he didn't offer. Pony gave her one of his track t-shirts and a sweatshirt that was so old I think it used to belong to me.

We still hadn't talked about what happened, and I let her go change without bugging her about it. A few more minutes weren't going to kill me, but I was real curious as to why I felt the need to punch out a perfect stranger. While she was in the bathroom, I got into dry clothes and told Soda and Pony what I knew which wasn't much, and they offered to clear out which was real nice considering the weather outside. I told them they didn't have to and made Pony start his homework and Soda start dinner. By then, Jules was standing in the living room, still shivering.

I almost took the blanket that hangs off the back of our couch to throw over her shoulders, but it smelled like mold and whiskey. Instead, I rummaged in the back of my closet (which used to be mom and dad's closet) and came out with a quilt that wasn't exactly spring fresh but it hadn't been covering the backs of hoodlums in various stages of drunkenness as they slept it off on our couch for the past year. I tossed it over her shoulders and she clutched it to her and smiled at me gratefully.

We went out onto the porch. The house seemed like it was too close-quarters what with how restless and agitated I felt. The porch swing is old and creaky and sometimes I feel like it's gonna break if I sit on it, but she curled herself up onto it so I sat next to her. I couldn't stop folding my hands into each other. That's how I get sometimes after I fight, but don't fight enough to tire myself out, you know? I'd only gotten one swing…I needed more.

"I went out with that guy one night last week," Jules began before I even had to ask. I remembered the argument Pony and Two-Bit had about whether or not guys could be nurses. It had registered vaguely when Soda said she'd had a date, but I was so busy getting prepared for her to come over for dinner with twenty minutes notice that I hadn't really had time to think about it. Then afterwards, the rain and the kiss…it hadn't occurred to me to give it any more thought.

"It was just dinner after class," she said, and I looked at her curled up in that blanket. She looked tiny. "He was nice and everything, but I just wasn't interested, you know?"

She had raised her eyebrows, but didn't wait for acknowledgement and I didn't give any. I just kept looking at her, because she wasn't really paying that much attention. Her eyes kept focused on the rain that dripped off the porch eaves. She had real light freckles on her nose that I hadn't noticed before. A small scar in her right eyebrow where the hair didn't grow. Her cheeks were red, but probably from the cold.

"He said he was fine with being just friends. It wasn't any big deal. We've been chatting in class for the last few days. He seemed normal…"

She pushed a breath out and looked at me. I blinked in her sudden gaze but didn't take my eyes off of her. "What happened?" I asked softly.

If she was going to answer right away, he was cut off by the screen door slamming shut. Soda appeared on the porch and held out two mugs with steam rising from the top. "Hot chocolate," he said, as if we'd ordered it in a restaurant.

I set mine on the ground next to my feet; Soda always puts way too much chocolate in, but Jules kept hers cradled in her hands and when she took a small sip, she didn't make a face like I was expecting her to. Soda banged back inside and I heard him yell out to Pony whether he should make the mashed potatoes blue or purple. Pony hollered back that they should be white, adding something on the end that sounded like 'you moron', but I couldn't even laugh at that. Jules looked so distressed.

"See, this is what I don't understand," she said, and she sounded frustrated and sad at the same time. "All of you are so nice, I mean, sometimes extra sweet, you know? So how come people say…"

People say what?! I almost shouted. Usually I'm too busy working hard to notice what people say about me and my brothers. Usually I figure they don't know what they're talking about (they don't) and the only people whose opinion matters are ours and of course the people from the state who say whether or not I can keep Pony and Soda here at home with me. But lately, after Johnny killed that Soc, people were saying a lot of things and it was real hard not to hear. The whole community on the west side went crazy and sometimes it seemed like all their wrath was coming down just on us. Not greasers in general, but us. Me and my brothers, Steve, Two-Bit, Johnny and Dally.

After Johnny, Pony and Dally saved those kids, it was a whole different story. People were awful quick to tell me they never blamed Pony in the first place, and boy it'd be a shame for the state to take my brothers away from me after all we'd been through. I let that sort of talk just roll off my back as much as the other sort, only because everyone changes their tune depending on what's happening, and you have to figure out who you trust in the world and just take their word and no one else's.

One time, Pony told me that was a sad existence. Well, it's mine. You see enough in the world you get hard. Not hard like Dally, but you learn to keep a certain amount of good sense in your head and a shield around your heart.

Jules was blinking at me, and she had tears in her eyes. I didn't know if I should hug her or steer clear, so I put my arm around the back of her shoulders and squeezed a little. I didn't expect her to scoot closer to me and put her head on my shoulder, but she did.

"I told him about you, and he got real mad," she said. Her voice was so soft I almost didn't hear her, and I stopped moving the swing with my feet. "Not jealous, but mad. He really didn't want me to go out with you. He said you were dangerous. Violent and wild and -- " She took a swallow of hot chocolate. "He said bad things," she finished.

I hoped she wasn't holding back on my account. It wasn't anything I hadn't heard before, but it did make me mad that someone who I didn't even know was taking it upon himself to warn Jules away from me.

"I told him he didn't know what he was talking about," she said suddenly, sitting up a little in order to look me in the eye. "I told him I'd spent enough time to know -- but he didn't -- " She bit her lip. "Well, that's what that was about. What you walked up to. He wasn't hurting me, he was just not willing to give up."

Suddenly it dawned on me that I'd probably proven this guy right. I'd walked right up, hauled off and hit him. Plus, the fight the other night with Pony. It wasn't like I was trying to hide the fact that I had a temper from her, but those probably aren't the best impressions to make when someone's got someone else whispering in their ear about how dangerous I am. "Jules, I hope you don't think I would ever hurt you."

She shook her head quickly. "I don't." She smiled a little. "I kept hoping you'd come, you know, he was getting real agitated that I wasn't listening. I kept thinking, if Darry doesn't come I'm gonna have to do something other than stand here and argue because he's getting real sore at me."

I felt awful for being a little late. I took the mug of hot chocolate out of her hands and set it on the ground next to mine. Then I wrapped her up in my arms, the quilt and all, and squeezed. She giggled and squeezed back.

"You're just a regular hero," she said, and her voice was muffled into my chest.

I released her a little. "I'm probably closer to the things that guy was calling me than I am to bein' a hero," I said honestly.

She tilted her face back and blinked up at me. "Not to me," she said with gravity.

I had to smile at her tone of voice. Like it'd be a tragedy if I didn't believe her. I didn't have to think much about it, I just wanted to kiss her real bad then. So I leaned down and did it, and I felt one of her hands make it around to the back of my neck and her palm pressed there.

I coulda kissed her forever. And maybe I would have if Soda didn't bang right back out the door. I thought I pulled away from Jules fast enough, but when he told us dinner was almost on the table, his ears were a little red and I could tell he knew what we were doing. He was holding a big wooden spoon and on it there were little flecks of blue mashed potatoes.

"Are you gonna stay and eat?" Soda asked Jules. She was eying the spoon too.

"Only if the mashed potatoes are blue," she said, and Soda grinned like someone'd just told him he'd won the lottery.

* * *

  
After making sure it was alright with me, Jules told Pony and Soda what had happened when I picked her up from the college. Soda had eaten all of his chicken and most of the mashed potatoes on his plate, but he was pushing around what was left with his fork. He was agitated, I could tell that easily. It sorta surprised me, because Pony is usually the only one who worries about what people say about us. I don't think being a greaser bothers Soda at all; he probably thinks it's pretty funny to go around town with people thinking he's dangerous or something.

"Jules, it ain't true," Pony said when Soda still hadn't said anything and kept pushing his food around. It was starting to resemble a thick blue paste.

Jules nodded decisively. "I know, Pony."

Pony put his fork down a little too firmly and it clanked against the side of his plate. "Darry is the best one out of all of us!" he blurted out, and I could tell he didn't mean to say it because his ears got red like Soda's had earlier. "I mean, he works hard and barely drinks and doesn't smoke, and he never makes any trouble; I mean, if he gets in trouble it's cause of one of us, me or Soda or one of the gang."

I remembered what Two-Bit had said about me. "The only reason Darry ain't a Soc is us." I never mentioned it to anyone, but after I'd read Pony's essay I never forgot that Two-Bit thought that, or that Pony agreed.

"I know, Pony." Jules said it more firmly this time, her eyes were big and earnest and you couldn't not believe her. "Don't get upset, it's not a big deal."

"Sure looked like a big deal when y'all walked in."

It was the first thing Soda had said in a long time, and he kind of muttered it under his breath without looking up.

"Sodapop," I said firmly, reaching across to take his fork from him so he'd stop playing with his food. I don't know why it was bugging me so bad but it was. I made sure to lower my voice when I continued, I didn't want him thinking I was mad at him. "The guy was bein' a little too rough and I hit him, alright?"

We'd gone through all this. When I nodded at Jules when she'd looked at me after Pony and Soda asked what was going on, I didn't think the boys would make it into a federal case.

"It's just that people don't think that about you, Darry," Soda finally said quietly. "I mean, I thought they didn't. I was kinda proud, you know? You work so hard and everyone knows you're my brother, it kinda makes me look better even though I'm a dropout and I'll probably work at the DX the rest of my life." He talked quickly and without pause. "It's sorta like Pony, you know? He's brainy and gonna probably go to college and make somethin' of himself. You guys make me proud because I can't be that dumb if I'm related to you, now can I?"

"You're not dumb," Pony said quickly, and I looked at him to see if he was as surprised as I was to hear this coming out of Soda's mouth. He looked upset, but I couldn't tell if that meant he knew anything about this before or not. Pony and Soda are real close, and sometimes I take for granted that maybe they don't tell each other every little thing like I'd thought.

"You're not dumb, little buddy," I echoed, but Soda was only looking at us like he expected us to say it.

"I don't mind," Soda said, and I knew he meant it. "I don't mind what people think of me, not really. I mind hearin' that they're thinkin' things about you that aren't true."

Soda had gotten into a couple of fist fights the week that Pony and Johnny were in Windrexville on account of people talking about Pony like he was a cold-blooded killer or something. I had honestly thought it was more about letting out pent up aggression and frustration than it was about not sullying Pony's reputation, but now I knew better.

Jules pushed her chair back and for a minute I thought she was going to get up. She didn't though, just stretched her legs out under the table and sighed heavily. "If it makes you feel any better, it's not like everyone in the class was jumping up and agreeing with Kevin. I mean, the ones that remembered your names from the news and everything mostly remembered the stories about how Darry was raising you on his own, and they thought that was real brave."

She smiled at me, like she was proud of me. People look at me like that sometimes, especially if Pony makes an A on a test or wins a track meet. I usually don't read anything into it. Those are the same people that are usually quick to frown at me when Soda gets arrested for fighting or being a public nuisance with Two-Bit. But I really liked it when Jules did it.

"I thought that's what most people thought," Pony said. He still sounded miserable and I wanted to reach across the table and shake both my brothers by the shoulders. It was real nice that they were concerned about me but this had turned into something I had never imagined it would.

"They do," Jules said quickly. She bit her lip. "I mean, I'm sure they do?" She laughed a little and Pony kind of chuckled. "I do," she finally said, and she winked at me.

My stomach flip-flopped.

Jules waved her hand and continued, "It had more to do about being rejected than it did about Darry, you know. Kevin's only been in town as long as I have so everything he knows is second-hand…third-hand…old gossip anyway. Please don't worry about it, you guys. I guarantee your brother's reputation is as solid as it ever was regardless of what Kevin says."

There was silence for a long time around the table. I leaned over and took Jules' hand into mine and squeezed it tightly. She smiled.

Maybe because my hands were now otherwise occupied, Soda leaned over and snatched his fork back. "Nurse Kevin," he said thoughtfully, and everyone burst out laughing.

* * *

  
"How did you learn to fight?"

The question was out of thin air. Jules and I were back on the porch swing, and I kept telling myself to call it a night already. It was close to midnight and Soda and Pony were in bed already. The rain had finally let up and I couldn't resist when Jules took my hand and led me back outside. She was wrapped in the quilt again and we were just sitting there quietly, watching the water drip off the eaves and listening to it run through the gutters and onto the ground.

"How did I learn to fight?" I repeated, blinking sleep from my eyes as I tipped my face downward.

Her hair smelled like shampoo. Not the kind that smells like flowers or apples, but the kind that smells like…clean air. The air in the country. Her face was nestled into my chest and for a while I'd thought maybe she was asleep. She nodded into my shirt.

"Fighting isn't something I learned," I said after some thought. I supposed someone could be taught to fight, but I didn't know anyone that had to be. Maybe it was because I only knew boys that fought, and don't boys just fight? I'd been play-fighting with my brothers since I could remember, and once I got into high school, well, I wasn't a bad kid but I fought. Everyone fought, and some of us were better than others, but if you paid attention, you learned. One time I took a gymnastics class and I spent the whole summer teaching everyone because I thought it might come in handy in a fight. But that was about it. "Why?" I asked.

She looked up at me, and maybe she had fallen asleep for a while because her eyes looked hooded and a little red. "I'm not a victim," she said, with such fierceness and determination it surprised me.

"I know," I said truthfully.

She was sitting up now, and I was sorta disappointed. I hadn't held a girl in my arms in a long time, and I was getting real used to doing it again.

"Tonight, you didn't rescue me," she said, and she put a little emphasis on the word 'rescue'. It was sorta funny the way she said it, but I didn't dare laugh. She looked like she wanted to deck someone. I almost agreed, but if I wasn't rescuing her, how come my knuckles were smarting from punching that kid? I figured it was probably smarter not to say anything at all, so I just tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and waited for her to continue. She was sorta in her own little world.

"I was okay, he wasn't gonna hurt me."

This time I nodded. I'd gotten that afterward, but at the time I was hoppin' mad at what I was seeing and I still wasn't sorry for decking that guy. I wanted to say he mighta hurt you, but I think she knew that, deep down inside. At least the way she was biting her lip and looking sorta scared, I thought she knew. She shook her head, like she'd shook herself out of it and blinked at me. Refocused. I see Pony do that a lot. I can't really space out like that, not usually, but I've been doing it more and more lately, I guess. It's not something I'm proud of. She smiled at me.

"I was wonderin' if you could teach me how to fight," she said after a long pause, and hell, the question surprised me. I wasn't sure who she was planning on fighting, but even greaser girls don't get into physical fights all that often. Not that I was trying to be chauvinistic, because I wasn't.

"Why do you wanna learn how to fight?" I settled on asking. I wasn't even sure I'd know where to begin. I sure didn't wanna hurt her and I wasn't exactly itching to have her punching me either.

Jules shrugged. "It might come in handy for self-defense," she said pragmatically. "I am just a kid living alone after all." She smiled when she said that, like she knew that's what I thought. Which was true some of the time, but most of the time 'kid' was the furthest thing from my mind when it came to her.

When I didn't say anything back right away, her smile morphed into a frown and I immediately wanted to erase it. Her head dipped and I put two fingers under her chin, forcing her to look back up at me. "I'll teach you," I said firmly. "I was just thinkin' how to do it, that's all."

She was still frowning. "I just keep wondering what would have happened if you hadn't shown up." Her voice had a little tremble in it, and she pulled the quilt tighter around her although I wasn't sure she was trembling from the cold. "I'm sure it would have been fine, that's what I keep telling myself, but what if it wasn't. Kevin was awful mad…"

When she trailed off, I pulled her close to me again. I could tell she didn't want to be a victim, she didn't want to think of tonight as me having 'saved' her, and I was trying to understand. It's hard for me, since no one ever 'saves' me, except I started to think that maybe Jules was in her own way. I wasn't ready to tell her that, though.

"You woulda been fine," I said into her hair. She'd rested her head against my chest again and I was wrapping my finger around the rubber band she'd used to pull her hair back from her face at dinner. It was the rubber band off of our newspaper, and Soda'd thought that was pretty funny. "If you had this much hair, you'd use whatever you could get your hands on to get it outta your face too," Jules had snapped at him.

"So when can we start?" she asked, and I could tell she was getting sleepy again. It was definitely time to take her home.

"Sunday," I said definitively. "At your place unless you want the peanut gallery in attendance."

She laughed at that one. "My place it is," she said. Her hand was draped across my stomach, gripping my t-shirt at my side, and she lifted the hem a little and tickled the skin there. That's when I decided a few more minutes wouldn't hurt any, and I dropped a kiss on the top of her head before pushing the swing with my feet and letting us drift in companionable silence.

TBC…

Go ahead and review. Sodapop would want you to.

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**Reviews for Chapter 5:**

Well golly you guys. I'm feeling awfully appreciated around here, and I can't thank you enough for all of your kind and encouraging words! I'm going to have to keep my responses short if I wanna get this all posted in one piece, but just know that I am so thankful to each and every one of you who takes time to review!

**pisiform** - I'm thinking you might be right. ((winks)) Thanks for the review.

**Tessie** - LOL You dork. I just cracked up at your "mentally alert" comment. This one's extra long for ya since you had to wait the whole weekend for it.

**Julie - **I think Darry deserves a day off, too! I had to make him feel sufficiently guilty for it, though. Thanks for the comment!

**Langley** - Darry is the furthest thing from immature, but I think there's a 20-year-old in there somewhere dying to come out!! Maybe Jules can bring it out of him.

**miz**** jif** - Thanks for jumping in with your thoughts! I'm glad you like it and I hope you stay tuned!

**JP Squire** - The small details are what make a fic come alive, I think. I try very hard to set the tone so that while you read, you can picture everything. Ooh, you have faith in me? That's so great, but of course now I'm nervous that I'll let you down! LOL (Ignore me. Seriously.)

**Bandit-Gurl42** - Thanks for your comments about the dialogue! You guys are flattering me from every angle! Thanks for your comments!!

**Jenna - **WWDD indeed. ((winks)) Thanks for stopping by to leave your comment, and I hope you made lots of $$ on your garage sale.

**Sodapop's#1gurl** - Ah, making Darry do something he wouldn't normally do was very nerve-wracking for me. I had to back it up with huge heaps of guilt.

**Kaz456** - I'm glad you understood where I was coming from, and yes, I think Pony's relationship with Darry will change for the better after this whole thing goes down.

**Raggedy Anne** - I am going a little crazy. Just between you and me, though. ((winks)) No seriously, the story is fun to write, I love writing a Darry romance.


	7. Lessons In Aggression

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._  
**  
  
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 7: Lessons in Aggression**

When I thought through how exactly I was going to teach Jules to fight, I realized I needed our old punching bag. Which was all fine and good except that we were going to be having the lesson over at her place and I was pretty familiar with the construction of her apartment, specifically the roofing. It was not going to hold the weight of a punching bag. We were gonna have to bite the bullet and do it at my house instead.

Jules didn't seem to mind the endless, usually juvenile observations of my friends, and I started to convince myself that maybe it'd help, having more of us around. I'm pretty proud of the boys; they're a good bunch of fighters and don't usually stoop to dirty tricks. If a fight's fair, it's fair, and they ain't afraid of using their fists. Sometimes I thought the Shepard's wouldn't know a fair fight if it punched them in the face, but then, if you were fighting the Shepard's, you should know well enough to carry a blade even if you said you weren't going to.

She came over right after breakfast on Sunday, and all of us were on the back porch. I was getting the punching bag hung up with Two-Bit and Steve's help, and Soda was giving unhelpful suggestions about getting it just right. Pony just smoked cigarette after cigarette and watched us, which is what Pony usually ends up doing anyway.

When she walked around the side yard and appeared next to Sodapop, I thought I wasn't gonna be able to do this after all. Her hair was back up in a ponytail, like the first night she'd come over to the house, and she had on these real tight black pants that had a drawstring waist. I couldn't figure out why pants that tight would have a drawstring waist; they weren't gonna be falling down anytime soon. She also had on a black tank top that didn't quite reach the top of her pants and if I thought her back looked smooth, well I hadn't seen nothin' until I'd seen her stomach. Maybe it was better to have the boys around after all. It would force me to keep my mind on what I was doing.

I quickly introduced Jules and Two-Bit, and Two-Bit of course had to appraise her in the creepy way he appraises every female and it usually makes them uncomfortable. She didn't seem to mind, and when he cocked an eyebrow at her she cocked one back, and they both cracked up laughing.

"I heard you have all these crazy superstitions," was the first thing Two-Bit said, and I shot a nasty look toward Steve but he wasn't paying attention at all. He could see his reflection in the window pane and he was staring at his hair.

Jules only nodded proudly. She put her hands on her hips. "I do," she confirmed, and Two-Bit inclined his head slightly as he pulled a cigarette out from his jacket pocket.

"You dig okay," he said with finality.

Two-Bit had no trouble with people's eccentricities as long as they were willing to admit they had them. The way Two-Bit figured it, everyone was wacky in their own way, some were just better at hiding it than others. He kept a "to do" list in his pocket, with nonsensical things written on it like, "Bang Elizabeth Montgomery" and "Set School Bathroom on Fire". It also said, "Find Darry's Craziness" and he liked to show it to me on occasion to make sure I didn't forget that he was always looking.

"You ready?" I asked Jules, shrugging off my jacket. It wasn't raining anymore but the sky hadn't cleared up, not by a long shot. As an afterthought I added, "Maybe we better warm up first."

Jules shook her head. "I jogged over here," she said, and I was sorta surprised. Off my look she clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "It's only two miles."

Soda had hopped up onto the porch and was standing next to Jules. He grabbed one of her arms and held it out. "You better stop jogging and start putting some muscles on. Look at these arms!"

She had real skinny arms. With a glare, Jules pulled her arm back and elbowed Soda in the stomach. He doubled-over, gasping for air, and the rest of us doubled-over laughing. When he was finally able to, he held up one finger. "That's a start," he wheezed.

She was smiling sweetly at me. "Great idea, to do it here," she said, and I noticed the twinkle in her eyes. She winked at me. "Can we get started?"

It made me real weak in the knees when she winked at me. Like we had a secret no one else knew. "Guys, clear off," I said, and without hope that they'd amble into the house, I wasn't surprised when they all sprawled out in the yard. Soda and Steve were tossing a football, but Pony and Two-Bit were chain smoking and had nothing better to do than to watch us like hawks.

I tried to ignore them and concentrated and wrapping the boxing gloves over Jules' hands. I'd noticed her fingers the first day we'd met, they were long and slender, but not bony or anything. She had nice fingernails; not too long but not too short, and she didn't wear nail polish except maybe clear. Most of the girls we dated had red or hot pink fingernails. I got real sick of looking at it all the time.

Once the gloves were on, I went around to the back of the punching bag and put my hands on either side of it. I looked around one side of the bag, saw her just standing there looking at me, arms hanging limply at her sides.

"Put your hands up," I commanded, and she did. I moved behind her and breathed in that same clean-air smell of her hair. I tried to concentrate on positioning her hands to hit the bag, then put my hands on her waist to get her feet right. That was real distracting, on account of touching the skin that I'd thought looked so soft, and now actually knowing that it was as soft as I'd imagined.

"Put your left foot a little forward," I said.

Two-Bit's low whistle from the yard got me real agitated. "Cut it out," I snapped.

He whistled again and I growled out his name. I can sound real threatening when I want to.

Two-Bit only shrugged. "Okay, I'll keep my mouth shut but I was just thinkin' her right foot should be forward seein' how you've got her hands positioned."

I wasn't joking when I said I was real distracted by her outfit. It killed me to admit Two-Bit was right. I said, "Switch your hands," and she did. It was sort of a relief to retreat back behind the punching bag.

"Okay, whenever you're ready go ahead and -- "

She hit the bag with a quick one-two punch.

"Start," I finished needlessly.

Steve and Soda had stopped throwing the football and were watching with avid interest. "Not bad, but your form needs work," Steve called out.

Jules just grinned at me. I corrected her form and taught her the difference between jabs, hooks, straight rights and uppercuts. The boys yelled things like, "Put your whole body into it!" and "Don't leave yourself open!" and although it was getting on my nerves, Jules seemed to be listening because she always corrected herself. Steve yelled, "If you're facing west and throw a punch, my car won't start tomorrow!" And even I had to laugh at that.

When she had those punches down and I'd drilled her through patterns, we started in on kicks. Sometimes when she'd kick I'd shove the bag back at her. The first couple of times she didn't adjust and lost her balance. Soda said, "C'mon Dar," and Pony told me to take it easy. But I looked right in Jules' eyes and I said, "Opponents don't stand still."

She looked at me real long after that, and I thought for a minute she was mad. Had the boys really gone silent or was I just unable to focus on anything else? Then she grinned and hooked her hands like, "Come on," and I shoved the bag toward her again.

This time she adjusted her feet and landed two quick kicks in succession. The boys hooted and hollered on the lawn. Jules looked real proud of herself but I said, "That doesn't really count 'cause you knew it was coming."

"Jesus Darry," I heard Soda complain. "Lighten up, wouldja?"

Those kinds of comments roll off my back. I hear them so often and the truth is I've got good reasons behind most everything I do or say. Jules looked at me like she understood and she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

"Next time, surprise me," she said, lifting her hands up and readying for the next round.

* * *

  
  
After over three hours straight of punching bag drills, the boys got bored and drifted inside. Jules had sweat pouring down her face and neck, but she didn't seem to be tiring out.

"You're doing great, you've got this down," I said, hoping to sound encouraging.

She only gave me a look and blew out a frustrated breath. "This is all fine and good but I wanted you to teach me to fight, not to box," she said.

I was surprised. Knowing how to swing punches and how to block punches and how to duck punches are pretty good fundamentals of fighting. Sure, none of us have any formal training and we do okay, but it wasn't like I could just throw her in a random street fight and call out instructions from the sidelines. I started to feel like maybe I hadn't thought it through, and it was stupid how much I was worried about disappointing her. I don't worry about disappointing anyone except my boss, usually.

"Well, what'd you have in mind?"

Now she didn't look disappointed, just discouraged. She shrugged and looked around as if an answer were going to present itself in the grey sheen that seemed to have permanently attached itself to the air. "I don't know. There's nothing else to work with."

A plan was beginning to form in my mind. I wasn't exactly sure how it would come to fruition, and if I was completely insane for even thinking it, but I knew one thing. In order to carry it out, we had to be away from my house.

"Take those off," I said, indicating the gloves. While she did that, I picked up the pair of sparring gloves that were near the front door and an old, dirty duffel bag with a broken zipper that mom used to carry her gardening tools in. It had been a long time since there was even grass in our back yard, much less a garden. The boys sat on patches of weeds so they wouldn't get dirt on their jeans. Stuffing both sets of gloves into the bag, I opened the screen door.

She gave me a look of pure confusion as we walked into the house, but didn't ask me anything and I didn't volunteer. Pony was sitting in my armchair reading a book and Soda, Steve and Two-Bit were at the table drinking Pepsis and playing cards. All four looked up as we stepped inside. I hadn't even bothered to check what time it was, and I probably should have before I'd gotten us all ready to go, but it was too late to back out now. If I didn't go through with it today, I would lose my nerve tomorrow.

"I'm going out." The clock read 12:45. "I'll be back in time for dinner. You boys stay out of trouble, you hear?"

Steve and Two-Bit nodded noncommittally but both Soda and Pony met my eyes and gave me a silent promise that they would. Jules said goodbye to everyone but her hand encircled my forearm when I stepped out onto the porch.

"What are we doing?" she finally asked.

"We're jogging to your place," I told her, shifting the duffel bag from one hand to the other. "Actually, we're racing."

Jules cocked her head but a smile was playing on her lips. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Do you even have to ask?" I said back, and didn't bother to give any more warning before I shouted "GO!" and took off toward the park.

* * *

  
  
I beat Jules, but not by much. We were both sweating pretty good once we got into her apartment, and I couldn't help but think she must be pretty exhausted after the run to my house, the boxing lesson and the run back to her place.

"I have this theory," she said, when I asked her if she wanted to call it off for the day. "If I work real hard today, I won't have to do anything tomorrow."

As her theories went, that was probably the most realistic one. I didn't tell her that. She helped me move all of her furniture to the edges of the room, creating a wide space for us to work in. I had dumped the duffel on her table and gave her the gloves to put back on. I did the same, then swung my arms in wide arcs to get the blood pumping through them.

I could not believe what I was about to suggest.

"I have this theory." I almost laughed at her pause and the raised eyebrow as she struggled with her right glove. "The only way you're going to learn how to fight, or to fend off an attacker if that's what you want to use this training for, is to fight an actual person."

Her gloves were on but her arms were hanging loosely at her sides. "You?" she asked, and I heard the disbelief in her voice.

I held my arms out. "Me."

"Uh uh. I don't think so."

"Your opponent will be mobile. A punching bag is not."

"Most of the time," she grumbled, flashing me a dangerous look. "I seem to remember falling on my butt because of a mobile punching bag."

"It's not the same thing," I coaxed.

She was shaking her head, her ponytail swishing from side to side. Although it was relatively cool in the apartment, I could still see the fine sheen of sweat on her exposed skin. "I won't hurt you," I said in a last-ditch attempt to get her to agree.

She didn't say yes, but she stepped forward and put both her hands up. I did the same, and then waited for her to make the first move. Her right knee flinched a second before she jabbed left, and I moved my arm, easily blocking the blow.

"Don't let your opponent see your plans," I reminded.

No answer. Her left knee flinched as she crossed right. Instead of hitting her arm away, I side stepped.

"Stop readying for each punch. I can see what you're about to throw."

A strong exhale and she looked up at me, but only for a second before retreating back to wherever she went when she was concentrating. Her hands dropped fractionally, and I swiped her shoulder lightly with my glove.

"Don't leave yourself open."

Under her breath, and maybe it wasn't meant for me to hear, she said, "I knew that."

I didn't wait for her to get back into position. She wasn't training for a boxing match, she herself had reminded me of that. I snaked a left hook toward her gut. If it had connected, it would have been harmless, but it didn't. She side stepped and bounded away, turning on me and landing a hard right cross into my shoulder.

She was grinning.

"Good," I said, trying not to sound too proud. I was, but it was way too early to admit it. We started sparring, neither one of us hitting hard enough to actually hurt. While I was landing more blows than she was, she was definitely improving with every hit. I figured any opponent she had would be bigger than her, so I used my size to gang up on her, aiming for torso hits and above. It took a while, but she finally figured to use her smaller frame as an advantage too, and she ducked low and kicked out, landing her foot firmly in my shin.

It hurt.

Still, I saw the opportunity and I took it. I'm still wondering if it was the wrong thing to do. When she kicked me, she left herself balancing on one foot, and I arced around, landing a left hook into her left hip.

We crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. I was on top of her, my right leg pinning both of hers down, my forearms hooked through her elbows. Gazing down at her face, my heart stopped beating for a second. She looked mad. Real mad. Part of me wanted to scramble up and apologize, and the other part wanted to remind her of what her goal was in this little exercise. If I wasn't mistaken, it was to learn how_not_to get pinned down by a man my size. I settled for moving my weight slightly so she could wiggle out from under me and when she looked at me again, I said, "Are you okay?"

She nodded. The anger in her expression was gone, and she pushed herself back, scooting on her butt until she was resting against the displaced sofa. I got up and went into her refrigerator for the bottled water I knew she kept in there. I handed her one.

"You sure?" I asked, more because I didn't know what else to say at this point in time. She looked perfectly fine to me.

"Of course I'm okay," she said, sipping the water. Then, as if to prove the point, she bounced up and faced me again. "I'm ready for round two."

Julia's grin is one of the best things I've ever seen. She suddenly looked like she was having the time of her life.

* * *

  
  
Two hours later and Jules looked like she was going to fall down in front of me. She still wouldn't give up, and I had to admire her determination, but being so sore that you can't move the next day isn't too smart. I'd graduated her from punching and kicking to basic wrestling moves, and repeatedly played the attacker from behind until I was convinced that she could swiftly and easily elbow me in the stomach (which she did for real a few times) and bring the heel of her foot up for a kick in the groin (which, thankfully, she did not do for real) before I was able to dominate control of the situation.

"I'm real proud of you," I said after we'd both collapsed to the middle of the floor and were sucking down bottle after bottle of water. "You did great."

The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Lots of stray hairs had fallen loose from her ponytail and she brushed them impatiently from her forehead and tucked them behind her ears. "Thanks for doing this, Darry," she said, and her breath was still coming in little gasps. "Mostly thanks for not treating me like I was gonna break. That was really -- "

She didn't seem to be able to find her words and I started to shake my head and tell her it wasn't a big deal. But she scooted toward me real quick and before I knew it her lips were on mine, and I sorta forgot everything else that was going on.

There was no one to walk in on us then, and I thought my head might explode by the time she pulled away. Her hands had gripped each side of my neck and it was one of those kisses like you see in the movies; the if-I-don't-do-this-now-I-might-die kinds of kisses. I think I could hear her heart pounding, but it might have been mine. When she pulled away, she was even more out of breath and she rubbed her forearm across her lips before standing up and going into the kitchen. I just sat there, because I don't think I could have stood up if you'd paid me to.

When she came back out of the kitchen, she handed me a dishtowel and was using one to mop the sweat off of her neck. I did the same, also running it once over my hair and when I pulled it off my face, she was gazing at me unabashedly. She kneeled, putting her water bottle between her knees.

"I like you a lot, Darry."

I blinked stupidly. "I like you, too," I finally managed to croak out. When had I gotten so bad at this? It was hard to believe not thirteen or fourteen months ago I was making out with Cathy Sutherland (the last girl I went out with before mom and dad died) in the back of the truck behind the Dingo, trying to make every second count since it was already past her curfew. Was I really so smooth back then, or was I just as clueless but too cocky and stupid to know I was clueless? I shook my head. It hurt to try to figure it out. I was damn tired.

Her smile was warm and genuine. "I just wanted to make it a little more clear where I stand," she said. "It seems like I'm always making the moves and I think you like me but -- we never really said anything."

I shook my head because I meant to disagree with her about always making the moves. I supposed, except for kissing her on the porch swing, she was always kissing me out of the blue. But I kinda liked that. It was different from other girls. I liked not knowing what to expect. I supposed I wasn't making too many moves because part of me was still scared to go through with it. I constantly lived in fear of letting down my brothers; neglecting them in some way. I worried about the boys, Two-Bit and even Steve, and after losing Johnny and Dally I sort of felt like I didn't need anyone else to worry about.

One time in high school, one of my buddies was killed in a drunk driving accident after a game. I was devastated, and for while I didn't do anything outside of school, practice and games. My mom had told me, "You can't stop living just because you lose someone." I said the same thing to Pony after Johnny died.

I looked at Jules, with her unruly hair that wouldn't stay put, with her huge green eyes, the freckles on her nose, the skinny arms, nice fingernails and reckless smile. Her theories and superstitions that I thought were completely stupid, and the way she liked to tease me because I worked too hard and played too little. I knew I liked her; I'd known that for some time. I felt bad that she hadn't known the whole time I had. I felt bad that maybe she didn't know that I not only liked her, but I probably could love her. I mean, I don't know much about love, but I think I could.

I didn't say anything, I just watched her chewing on her bottom lip. Nervous. Anxious. Embarrassed. Beautiful. Reaching my hand out, I caught her around the neck, pulling her closer to me. She gasped a little in surprise. Then I kissed her again, with every sort of feeling I could muster, and I felt her melt in my arms.

I had this teacher once, a real progressive save-the-world type, and she used to say that perfection was only a moment recognized in hindsight. Maybe that's true most of the time, but I could think of plenty of instances where things were perfect and I knew it. When I scored the winning touchdown in the Division AAA championships. When my dad and I would come home from skiing, and as soon as we walked in the door we smelled roast chicken and mom had hot chocolate waiting for us. Extra marshmallows. When Soda and I saw Pony at the hospital for the first time after Johnny killed Bob. All sooty and dirty from the fire, but alive.

Moments of perfection. This was one of those. I kissed Jules, and it was perfect.

TBC…

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* * *

**Reviews for Chapter 6:**

Thanks again everyone for reviewing. I'll try to keep my notes short.

**Makado**- Thanks for stopping by and reviewing! You know what they say, better late than never!

**Raggedy Anne**- Ah, you had to go another 3 days, didn't you? I hope you didn't have a heart attack. LOL I'll never abandon you for too long, I promise.

**kaz456**- Glad you liked the dinner table conversation. Well, not liked. Glad you_appreciated_the dinner table conversation. Thanks for the feedback.

**pisiform**- Hope the fighting lesson was up to your expectations. ;) Thanks for your consistent reviews.

**Bandit-Gurl42**- I'm trying to balance everything that needs to be addressed, without dragging out the story or missing anything important. I think we're looking at two or three more chapters before I tie it all up. Stay tuned!

**JPSquire**- Thanks for the compliment about the table scene. It was tough to do, and I nearly took it out several times. Glad I bit the bullet and posted!

**Greaser Chick**- I have the story planned out but thanks for the suggestion. Good news is, you can find lots of stories with that sort of plot line here at , so just dig around a while. ;)

**Tessie26**- Darry can handle two women. ;)

**miz****jif**- Wow, you do flatter me. Thanks for your kind comments! I always wonder about the 60's and the role that women had in, what I like to call, the in-between decade (between the traditional 50's and the hippie 70's). I try to keep the women's liberation movement of the 60's firmly planted in my mind, while remembering it wasn't as "free flowing" as the 70's, so it's always a struggle for me on what to write. Thanks for your viewpoint!


	8. Changes

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton. This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._  
  
  
Short A/N: This chapter will sit well with some and not-so-well with others. It's okay, I can handle it. More A/N at the end. Thanks for reading!**  
  
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 8: Changes**

It was real hard to stop kissing Jules. She felt warm and soft in my arms, and I didn't care that we were both sweaty and completely exhausted from the fight lessons. I was more than willing to get a lot more sweaty and can't-open-your-eyes exhausted, but she said no.

I walked all the way home, and didn't even mind when it started to drizzle again. In the southern horizon I could see the clouds breaking up and even patches of sunshine, and maybe the rain wanted one last opportunity for release. I sorta knew the feeling. My brothers were gonna think I went completely crazy -- showing up after walking around in the rain for the third time? Jesus, it's like I was a different person.

Lucky for me, Steve and Two-Bit were long gone by the time I walked in the door. Pony and Soda were wrestling in the middle of the living room floor and they both hollered something at my back as I walked by but I ignored it. I needed a shower badly.

Clean and dressed in dry clothes, I headed into the kitchen. Soda was still laying on the living room floor but Pony was now up at the table, flipping through his math book. Both of them tossed glances my way. It wasn't even close to dinner time and way too late for lunch, but I was starved and helped myself to a big slice of chocolate cake.

"You're gonna ruin your dinner," Soda finally said doubtfully.

I hadn't eaten since breakfast, so I wasn't worried.

Pony closed his math book and neatened the stack of papers he'd been working off of. He shoved them over to me. "I'm done with my math."

I nodded and glanced at the top sheet. "Book," I said between bites. Pony opened his book to the correct page and I reacquainted myself with the theories of probability before starting to check over his work. I felt both my brothers eyes still on me but I ignored them. They were dying to ask about Jules, but I wasn't sure what I'd say at this point in time, so I sort of took advantage of their strange inability to bring themselves to pry into my personal life this one time.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, and after I'd checked over his homework, Pony and Soda retreated into their bedroom to whisper about me and I cleaned up the dishes and started making a shopping list. The rain had stopped again, and the sky was finally clearing, lending a dusky grey sunset to the horizon that I actually stopped to look at. Pony woulda been proud.

Over dinner, Soda casually asked, "How'd it go with Jules?" and I had no problem telling them how much progress she'd made in just a small amount of time. Neither of them could believe I'd actually sparred with her, no matter how gentle I promised I was. They kept looking at me like I was gonna get arrested any minute for beating up a girl.

"She liked it," I finally defended, and while Soda choked on his chocolate milk, Pony's entire face, neck and ears turned bright red.

"I mean she liked that I didn't hold back just because she's a girl," I clarified.

Soda was still snickering around his meatloaf and I couldn't resist reaching to the middle of the table and tossing a roll at him. His eyes got real wide and he hesitated for a moment before flicking a forkful of peas at me. They landed everywhere, apparently my newly washed hair too because Pony pointed at me and chuckled. Which got _him_ a forkful of peas in his precious hair. I thought Soda would die laughing.

It had been a long time since an all-out food fight broke out around our table. The boys tried it a lot, but I usually nipped it in the bud real quick because I had enough cleaning up to do already. For some reason tonight, the mess was the furthest thing from my mind. My brothers laughing, looking gleeful and happy, and me laughing with them, was more important and I broke a roll into pieces and tucked a few down the back of Pony's shirt.

* * *

  
After dinner, my brothers and I took a football down to the vacant lot and tossed it around a while. Usually on Sunday nights I'm trying to figure out the grocery list, get lunches packed and have the house in a semi-state of order before the week begins. Sunday is my only day off and I like to get as much done around the house as I can. But that day, everything was different. It was like I was looking at the world with a new set of eyes or something. I'm not all introspective like Pony and I can't figure these things out, but I'm not dumb and I know when something's different.

Something's different. I think it's me. Pony and Soda were hooting and hollering and having a good old time because I let them leave the dishes in the sink and the mess on the floor. Two-Bit came scrambling around the corner at full tilt and crashed into Soda at the edge of the lot.

"Y'all are makin' so much racket out here I was startin' to think someone was gettin' jumped by a Soc!"

Soda had a string of choice words to rattle off at the mention of the word Soc, and I just shook my head and let him go. Soc's didn't really come around anymore and beat up greasers. Not for fun like they used to anyway; that was sort of dying down and I was glad. Now that Johnny and Dally were gone, Pony really only had Two-Bit to go to the movies with and Two-Bit was so restless, he wasn't the best companion for sitting in the dark and being quiet. Pony did a lot more alone lately, but he was getting his build back and being careful, so I tried not to worry.

Since Two-Bit arrived, we were able to pair off and play a game. Me and Pony against Soda and Two-Bit. Two-Bit was half-drunk, and Pony and I are better athletes all-around, so we won by like forty-two points. Not that Soda woulda known it; he spent most of the time practicing his somersaults in the end zone than actually playing. Pony and I knew, and I ruffled him on the head and we shared a good grin when all was said and done.

I shoulda known better than to think I'd gotten through all the questions I was going to get about Jules for the night. Two-Bit lit a cigarette as we walked back to our house, and he stayed back with me while Soda and Pony ran circles in front of us. The air was warming up, I could tell, and I betted that before long we'd all be complaining about the heat again.

"I like your girlfriend," Two-Bit said, and I could tell he was trying to keep his voice as casual as he could. Knowing Two-Bit, there was some remark he was dying to make that would send him into a fit of hysterics, and I almost told him to cut the pleasantries and come out with it.

I shrugged. It didn't occur to me anymore to tell people she wasn't my girlfriend. I didn't know what she was, but I sure as shootin' didn't go round making out with many girls anymore so she had to be something.

"At first, what with how Steve talked about her, I thought she'd be a real nut job." Two-Bit sucked on the end of his cigarette and I watched the orange embers burning in the otherwise dark. "But no, she's feisty. She's a cool broad."

Steve didn't seem to like Jules all that much, but then, Steve didn't seem to like anyone all that much except for Soda. He liked people so far as he could tease them, and I spent a lot of time reminding myself that he and Soda had been tight since they were kids, and Soda was not a bad judge of character. I'd told that to Ponyboy once when Pony was steamin' mad at Steve about some comment or other, and Pony patted my shoulder as if to say, "You keep tellin' yourself that, Darry."

"I'm glad you like her," I finally said to Two-Bit. Pony and Soda were already hopping up on our porch and swinging the door open. I saw their shadows as they bounded into the living room and heard the distinct crash as Soda attempted a cartwheel and knocked over a table, or a lamp, or an ashtray (or all three).

"That kid's gettin' more like me every day," Two-Bit said under his breath. He was looking at me like he expected me to explode at any moment. As we approached the house, I saw Soda and Pony both emerge onto the porch, hands stuffed deep in their pockets. Soda was looking chagrined and Pony a little annoyed.

"What broke?" I asked as we climbed the steps.

"The blue ashtray."

I nodded slowly. I hated that ashtray. I don't smoke, and I really hate all ashtrays around my house. If I had time to argue all day, I'd enforce the no smoking in the house rule, but since I'm home less than anyone else, it's impossible to get that to actually happen. It was strange, because usually I'd be thinking about reminding Soda that's why we don't cartwheel in the house. All I could really think was I'm so glad that ashtray is gone.

"Clean it up," was all I said before walking past the boys and into the house. I patted Pony on the back to let him know I wasn't mad at him.

I started in on the dining room. We'd really left it a mess. There were peas everywhere, and I had a feeling I'd be finding them in the most unusual places for days. I could hear the boys in the other room arguing about the best way to get the ashes up off the carpet. Finally, Two-Bit stuck his head around the corner. His cigarette was still dangling from his mouth.

"Hey Dar -- "

Whatever he was going to say was forgotten when he saw a smear of meatloaf on the wall. He pointed and I shrugged. I was still on my hands and knees with a dustpan and broom. Stupid peas. "I'm getting there," I muttered.

"There's meatloaf on your wall!" Two-Bit exclaimed anyway.

I ignored him. He pushed off the wall and wandered back into the living room.

"I'm in the twilight zone," I heard him say to my brothers. I couldn't tell what they said back, but Two-Bit laughed that high-pitched gleeful cackle like he'd just found out something priceless.

I went to bed that night feeling happier and more content than I had in a long time.

* * *

  
Soda and Pony were pretty excited on Monday morning when I told them I was going over to Jules' after work to help her with some more fighting exercises. I gave them five dollars and told them to go for a hamburger and Cokes for dinner, and you'd have thought I keep them bound by chains in the cellar eating only bread and water the way they whooped and hollered and celebrated. I also put Jules' phone number in Soda's pocket and told him if he called me there, it better not be from a police station. He slugged me in the arm like it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard. Like I'd never, ever gotten a call about him from the fuzz.

When they announced the good news to Two-Bit and Steve, Two-Bit said he just may be getting closer to finding my craziness yet, and Steve started to mutter something about me getting soft and thinking with my… He didn't get the rest out because I socked him in the stomach so hard he doubled over coughing.

Soda thought that was real funny, and Pony (luckily for Steve) didn't even look up from his book.

Jules was cooking with color when I got to her place. There was some sort of reddish-pinkish stew and the biscuits were green.

"I'm sorry you ever met Sodapop," I said and she grinned at me cheekily before turning away from the stove and giving me a sweet kiss. It was all so normal and girlfriend-like. It gave me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I'm gonna put this on low," she said, turning down the stove. "I know we should do the lesson first."

I looked her over. Grey sweatpants and a fitted white t-shirt. Her hair was up, but already falling out of its tie. "Okay," I said dubiously. "Are you sure you're not sore?"

She shook a bottle of aspirin that was nearby on the counter. "Totally sore," she said cheerfully. "No pain, no gain. That's what I always say."

"You've probably never said that in your life," I argued. So much for yesterday's theory about working real hard so she could have the day off. I didn't mention that part, though.

She laughed and tilted her head to the left then to the right as if to say, 'semantics'.

"We can skip it," I insisted. I didn't want her to get injured or not be able to move in the morning.

I never met a woman that was less stubborn than a man. She shook her head and walked out of the kitchen. Her furniture was still pushed to the sides and she stood in the middle of the room.

"I want to," she assured me with a grin. "I feel good about what I learned yesterday."

"You did great -- " I started to say, but stopped when she nodded her head impatiently and hooked her hands as if to say 'come on'.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'm Superwoman, attack me."

I tilted my neck from side to side and lifted my shoulders slightly, trying to loosen up. I had promised her we'd work on more attack scenarios without the boxing gloves. So far I'd only come up from behind. This time I strode right up to her and put my hands on either of her shoulders. Thing is, I'm really strong. Stronger than probably the average attacker. It's probably better to practice with the strongest, but she's not that strong and I didn't want her to get frustrated right away. So I held back a little.

We wrestled to the ground and she managed to get a leg hooked under mine. She pushed up with everything she had and landed a blow to my solar plexus.

"Good," I said, out of breath.

She shook her head. "You're holding back."

I pushed myself up to my elbows and she sat back, balancing on her knees.

"Of course I'm holding back," I said, trying to get my breathing under control. That hit to the torso was pretty damn hard. "I don't want to hurt you."

"An attacker isn't going to hold back," she shot back.

I could tell she wasn't angry. Frustrated. Maybe a little disappointed. I sat up further. "I'm trying to teach you the fundamentals of what you need if this ever happens. But I'm not willing to hurt you to do that." When she didn't respond, just bit down on her bottom lip and started looking real intently at her hands, I moved closer to her, slipping a hand behind her legs and cradling her calves. "You're doin' really good," I said sincerely, hoping she'd look at me. She didn't. "I'm sore and bruised from where you've punched me. I mean, you have what it takes to win a fight with someone who's trying to hurt you. I'm confident about that."

Now she looked at me; real slowly bringing her eyes up to mine. "You're bruised?" she asked dubiously. I nodded. "Show me," she said, eyebrow arched.

I hesitated only a second before pulling my shirt off. I'd taken stock of them that morning. There was a relatively big one, maybe the size of her fist, just to the left of my belly button. Several smaller ones dotted my arms where she'd gripped me in attempt to wrestle me away when I grabbed from behind. There was one on my back that Soda said was in the shape of a footprint (but I seriously doubted), from a particularly well-placed kick that had sent me to the ground and left her standing over me, triumphant. Pony started fretting that I'd have kidney damage. I had to promise I'd never let Jules kick me again before he'd shut up about it.

After she got done looking me over, the expression on her face was alternately pleased and distressed. Her hands moved over the marks and I closed my eyes without meaning to when she scraped her fingernails across my stomach, then again across my back. I felt her lips start to trail a path across my shoulder blades as she moved around me. When I did open my eyes again, she was back around in front of me, and her palms were pressing into each of my arms before she moved them up, to the sides of my neck, then to my face where she pulled my lips toward hers.

I put one arm around the small of her back and pressed her close to me, the other hand cupped her face, keeping her there, in that kiss. We were still on the floor, she was practically in my lap by the time she pulled her lips from mine. I was prepared for her to stop, push me away and smile at me in that way that she does that melts all the frustration away. But she didn't. She planted more trails of kisses across my chest and I started to get dizzy. I tucked my fingers under the hem of her shirt and pulled, and she lifted her arms, pulling away from me momentarily so that I could pull it off.

I looked at her then, really looked at her face: flushed cheeks, labored breathing, and her eyes that practically glowed. "Are you sure?" I asked to be a gentleman, but also because if she said no, I figured it was probably a good idea for me to stop right then.

She blinked, licked her lips and kissed me again, real slow. "I'm sure," she said as she pulled away and I wriggled the t-shirt off of her and pressed her as close to me as I could get her.

* * *

  
That place in between sleep and wake is a pretty tempting place to be. It's like your last moment of consciousness before you drop off, the last time you can think to yourself, _I'm almost asleep_. That's where I was, right in the middle of Jules' living room floor, when her phone rang.

She groaned, pushing herself up. She sat, pulled a quilt that was hanging off the displaced couch and wrapped it around herself before standing up to answer it. It was a real loud, shrill ring that was pounding into my head more and more with each time it sounded.

Maybe I drifted off again in the ten or twenty seconds it took for her to answer it, because she had to shake my shoulder to get my attention.

"It's Soda," she said.

That got me up real quick. I sat up and grabbed the receiver, inwardly praying that he was not calling from jail.

"Soda? You alright?"

"Hey, Darry!"

He sounded cheerful on the other end and I was able to exhale. Then I was able to get annoyed that he was bothering me for nothing. Jules appeared at my side and handed me my clothes, then planted a kiss on my cheek before she disappeared into her bedroom. I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder as I shrugged on my pants.

There's something weird about getting your pants on while talking to your little brother on the phone.

"What's up, little buddy?" I asked, trying not to sound as put out as I felt. I was also not trying to sound like I was getting dressed. I couldn't exactly tell him what he'd interrupted. "Everything alright?" I asked instead.

"Oh yeah, it's fine," he said. He sounded far away and tinny on the other end. Our phones aren't that good. I think we've had them since before Pony was born. "I was just wonderin' when you were comin' home. Me n' Pony got back from the Dingo and waited around, but he's already in bed…"

I glanced at the clock and was shocked at the time. It was almost midnight. Maybe I had fallen asleep after all and I just didn't realize it. Truth was, a nuclear bomb coulda been dropped in the next neighborhood over and I might not have realized it.

"I didn't mean to interrupt or anythin'," Soda was saying, and I shook myself out of my stupor.

"No, no, you didn't," I said, and I hoped I'd sounded convincing. Soda's laugh on the other end meant nothing to me, since he coulda been laughing at my inability to lie, he coulda been laughing at what he imagined I was doing, or he coulda been laughing at the late show on television. "I'm headin' home now, Soda," I said instead.

"Alright, Dar," Soda said, laughing again. He musta been watching the television. "See ya in a few."

I hung up as Jules came out of her bedroom. She was wearing an old t-shirt that said UCLA across the front and a pair of sleep shorts that looked way too big on her. "Everything okay?" she asked, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail.

I nodded. I hated turning around and leaving. It seemed…wrong. I knew beating myself up over it wasn't going to change anything, but I shoulda thought it through before sleeping with her. It wasn't fair to expect her to understand, but I knew all along that I couldn't spend the night. I can never spend the night with a girl. I can never have a girl spend the night with me. I knew that when I agreed to be a guardian to my brothers and for the past year I've honored that. Now I felt like I was in quicksand and sinking fast.

She stepped closer to me and put her hands on my chest. I realized I hadn't put on my shirt yet. "I know you have to go," she said softly, wrapping her arms around me and standing on her tip toes so she could bury her face in the crook of my neck. "It's okay."

I shook my head. It was not okay.

"It's okay," she said again, pulling away but keeping her arms around my neck. She smiled at me, and I was inclined to believe her. I started thinking maybe she shouldn't be in nursing school but in law school. All she'd have to do is smile that smile at a jury and they'd believe anything she fed them. Well, I supposed I was probably the only one that gullible when it came to her. Steve was right. I was going soft.

"I don't wanna leave," I said honestly, burying my face in her hair. I felt her nod against me.

"I know, Darry."

"I didn't plan for this, I mean, I wouldn't have if I woulda been thinking -- "

Her finger over my lips silenced me, and she replaced it with her own lips and gave me a real sweet kiss. The kind that you taste on your lips for hours after the kiss actually happened. The kind that would have to last me until at least tomorrow.

"I have this theory," she said once she'd pulled away. "If you go around regretting the things you do, there's no point in doing anything at all."

That was a good theory, as her theories went. I told her so, and she beamed like I'd told her I knew the cure for cancer. I threw my shirt over my head and picked up my keys and wallet, stuffing them into my pockets. I still felt bad about leaving, but she seemed perfectly happy and I had to make myself content with that.

She opened the door for me and I stepped out. Quickly, like she'd forgotten something, she pulled me back inside and shut the door. I turned around to ask her what the deal was, and she jumped on me, legs around my waist, arms around my neck and squeezed me in the tightest hug I'd been given in a long time. I lost my balance a little and stumbled backward.

"Whoa."

She giggled in my ear.

When her arms loosened, I lowered her to the floor and she stepped back once her feet hit it. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Call me tomorrow?" She was biting her lip.

My knees went weak.

"Yeah," I said, scooping my hand behind her head and drawing her in for one last kiss. She grinned at me as she opened the door again. Was still grinning when I stepped out, and her eyes were twinkling like she knew this big secret that no one else knew. I pictured that grin as I walked to my truck and almost walked right past it. I pictured that grin as I drove home, and was thankful that the television was off and Soda was conked out in bed next to Ponyboy. I pictured that grin as I climbed into my own bed and drifted off to sleep, pretty sure that I'd spend the rest of my life picturing that grin whenever I needed to smile.

TBC…

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**Reviews for Chapter 7:**

First an author's note: There are a lot of people with a lot of questions about this story and I just want you to know that I am taking everything into consideration as I review and revise the last few chapters. (As of now, there are 11 and an epilogue. That could change.) Don't worry, it'll all come together in the end, and I hope to have kept true to what's important to me as well as you. Okay, on to the individual comments. You guys spoil me, you really do.

**Axantra** - I appreciate you stopping in every once in a while to let me know you're still reading. Thanks so much!

**JPSquire** - Personally, I think _you're_ a class act. What a great review. Thank you so much for everything you said. ((wink))

**miz jif** - Thank you for the compliment. I'm probably older than most around here but not by much (I hope)!

**Jess** - If I have to write an OC, I never make him/her the center of the story. I'm glad you recognized that. Thanks for reading and commenting!

**Vicenza** - Thank you! Hope this chapter was to your satisfaction.

**pisiform** - Don't worry, it's not forgotten. ((grins))

**Julie** - I'm glad the scene rang true for you. It was a tough scene to write.

**Sodapop's#1gurl** - Nah, Jules doesn't have a dark past or anything like that. I hope you'll understand why I haven't fleshed her out as much once the whole things wraps up!

**Langley** - Ha ha, yeah, Darry had to be brave to do that. I think he's starting to realize that he's got to lose some inhibitions sometime. ((wink))

**Tessie** - You hit the nail on the head, girlfriend. Where do you think my inspiration came from?

**Oblivious Misconception **- You seem to have a good grasp on my overall goal for this story. It's okay if you don't chime in on every chapter, but I appreciate your views when you do!

**Makado**** Felton** - Thanks! You rock, too!

**kaz456** - Well thank you very much. I'm glad it's all working for you.

**Raggedy Anne** - Heh. Wouldn't you? I'm glad you noticed the little details.

**Robot In Disguise** - Thanks, I'm so glad you're liking it.

**Bandit-Gurl42** - I try to keep updating every few days. Some chapters are easier than others. Thank you for sticking by this.

**Zack Anderson** - You guessed right, but I guess you know that by now. ((wink)) I hope you'll keep noticing and appreciating the subtle parts, because they mean a lot to me, too.


	9. The Taming

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._**  
  
  
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 9: The Taming **

As promised, I called Jules before I left for work the next morning. I woke her up.

"I am sore after all," she told me, her voice sounding like she hadn't even bothered to pull her head out from under her pillow. "Imagine that."

"Imagine that," I said in return. My brothers were rough housing around me and I really wanted to get off the phone as soon as possible if I didn't want to catch too much heat from them about how late I was the night before. I wasn't sure if Soda had even told Pony how late I'd been, but he raised an eyebrow at me and took a large swallow of my coffee (then made a face and spit it out in the sink) so I knew he was pretty tired.

"I'm playing hooky today," Jules said on the other end of the line. "No chance you are, too?"

I shook my head. "No." I said it firmly, as much to convince myself as her.

She laughed like she'd expected that. "Imagine that," she returned dryly. "Well, I have an observation at the hospital tonight so I'll just talk to you later this week."

Sodapop threw Ponyboy over his shoulder and Pony landed with a thud on the couch. "I'll let you go," I heard Jules say, and I know she was laughing at the noise. I woulda been laughing too if I was still in bed in my nice, quiet apartment where no one lived but me.

"Bye," I said grumpily before hanging up the phone. I immediately turned on Soda. "You plannin' on payin' the hospital bills if you break your little brother's back?" I asked him.

Soda blinked at me, then looked at Pony who was still sprawled out on the couch, lighting up a smoke. "He don't look broken to me," Soda said plainly. Without waiting for me to respond, he clapped me on the shoulder just as Steve walked into the house. "Good timing," he told his friend. "Hey Darry, Steve and I met these girls at the DX the other day -- "

"Twins!" Steve yelled from the kitchen.

" -- and we were gonna take them out tonight. If that's okay?"

He raised his eyebrows at me, as if I ever say no to him. Golly, even Pony could attest to the fact that I let Soda pretty much do what he wanted as long as he stayed outta jail. "Yeah, it's okay," I said. I appreciated being asked anyway. "Not too late, though."

Soda nodded dutifully and mock-saluted as Steve walked up next to him, holding a large piece of bread with some butter folded into it. "Sure thing," Soda said. Then I saw his eyes twinkling with mischief and I knew somethin' was coming. "Darry got in after 12:30 this morning," he announced to everyone in the room.

I saw Steve's mouth turn into a little 'o' and he whistled like this was some information that really meant something. Pony jumped up from the couch, surprised and amused for other reasons. "Hey!" he protested.

I put my finger up. "I'm twenty, you're fourteen," I said quickly, then turned on Soda and caught him in a loose headlock. "Thanks a lot little buddy," I said, messing up his carefully combed and greased hair. "Now I gotta spend my morning defending myself to my kid brothers and their no-good friends!"

Soda wriggled out of my headlock and all three pounced on me. Even with all three of them, it took a good twenty seconds for them to wrestle me to the ground. No one was hitting very hard, but it only took a swift kick to the spot on my back that had been bruised by Jules' foot and I called uncle.

Steve and Soda jumped up. "I don't think Darry's ever called uncle in his life!" Steve announced gleefully. I just lay where I was, glaring at them. Pony was next to me, panting. He really needed to cut out those cigarettes if he wanted to even qualify for track next year.

"He's just sore cause his girlfriend beat him up," Soda muttered, smoothing his hair down before pushing his DX cap over the whole thing and pulling it low on his forehead.

Steve nodded and followed Soda to the door. "Right, I forgot," I heard him say as Soda swung the screen door open and stepped out onto the porch. Before the door banged closed I heard Soda call over his shoulder, "I'll be home before midnight, Darry!"

Pony turned his head to look at me and I had to grin at him. "I saw The Taming of the Shrew is playing down at that old theater downtown," I said suddenly. "You wanna go after I get off work tonight?"

I could tell Pony was surprised. Maybe surprised was an understatement. Maybe if he hadn't already been lying down, you coulda pushed him over with the shock of it. I don't like movies, see. I just think they're a waste of time. But me and Pony had been getting on real well lately, and I knew he'd enjoy it. I wasn't even sure if he'd seen it; it'd been out for a couple of months, but that old theater downtown was always deserted and they showed older movies and let you in for half price.

Pony sat up and fished around for the cigarette he'd ground out before jumping on me. He glanced at it, at me, and then threw it back in the ashtray. "You hate movies," he said, leaning up against the couch with his knees bent and pulled in front of him. He was wearing a pair of Soda's old jeans, I could tell by the grease stains on the knees. Pretty soon he was gonna get too tall to inherit Soda's jeans.

I shrugged and pulled myself up next to him. "I read the play in high school," I said, as if it explained anything. Sure, I'd probably be bored stiff, but I didn't need to tell him that. Doing something with him that he'd like was the whole point. I was trying to understand him better.

"Did Jules tell you to take me?" Pony asked suddenly.

"What?" That really surprised me. Why would Jules tell me to take Pony to the movies?

Pony shrugged. He didn't seem sorry he said it. "I was talking to her about some stuff the other day, about how you and me fight all the time?" I musta looked at him sharply because his eyes got wide and he shook his head real quickly. "I was apologizing for the night she came over and we fought in front of her," he said. "You know how she comes out with all her theories about stuff. Well, she said that maybe we didn't do enough stuff together; just you and me. I mean, we do stuff, like play football and stuff we know we both like, but she thought that maybe I should do something you like and you should do something I like -- "

He suddenly cut himself off and reclaimed that cigarette from the ashtray. I didn't say anything as he struggled to light it. It's real hard to re-light a stubbed smoke. When he finally got it, he inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly.

"I just don't know if I could read the paper and worry about the bills and yell all day long, though," Pony continued. He was smiling at me. "Since we all know that's what you like doing."

Smart aleck. I pointed a finger at him. "I'm giving you a three count head start," I threatened playfully. "But you better get up now and run."

He hesitated only a second and then did just that. I jumped up and chased him out onto the porch, down the street and toward the park. I finally caught up around the grove of trees where Dally was killed and we both stopped. Pony leaned over and clutched his knees, breathing hard. His cigarette was still lit and hanging out of his mouth. I plucked it from between his lips, threw it on the ground and stepped on it.

"Cut the smoking down to a pack a day, and I won't skin ya for saying that," I said, patting him on the back.

Pony stood up and nodded. We started walking back toward the house, and neither one of us said a word about Dallas. We don't, none of us guys do when we come to that spot in the park, but we always stop and think for a moment, and I suppose we always will. You can't just whoop and holler your way to the park anymore, you gotta stop in that spot and remember ol' Dal.

Back at the truck, I waited while Pony got his book bag from inside the house.

"So you'll really take me to that movie?" he asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

I looked over at him. "Yeah. Sure kiddo. Come on by the job site around five thirty, okay?"

From the corner of my eye, I caught Pony's smile as we headed down the street toward the school.

* * *

  
Both our stomachs were growling by the time we stepped back onto the street after the movie. It was close to nine o'clock. I don't buy the food in the movie theater because if it's not a rip off (which it is, even at the cheap movies), it's old and stale and not that good. Pony had grumbled a little about starving him, and I grumbled back at how boring and pointless movies were, and then we watched in silence and I think he really enjoyed himself.I didn't, but that wasn't the point.

We started walking toward a diner that's about a block up from the theater. Pony, of course, didn't have a jacket, so I gave him my flannel to keep him from complaining the whole way there. It wasn't all that cold, but after the heat of the day we sure felt the difference. We coulda taken the truck to the Dingo or someplace, but I'd gotten a spot at a broken meter and even Pony agreed that we couldn't pass that up.

"Jules didn't tell me to take you to the movies," I said suddenly as we walked.

Pony looked at me. I think he didn't know what to say. He said, "Okay."

I understood his confusion. I mean, we just don't do stuff like this, me and Pony. I don't have time, or I don't have the money, and quite honestly, I don't want to. But it seemed a shame; I mean, yeah, sometimes it seems like he's gonna be a kid forever and I'm always gonna be busting my back to make ends meet, but he's gonna be a sophomore in high school next year, and if Pony is anything like me or Soda, he'll start dating girls and never be home after that.

Somewhere along the line when I wasn't looking, maybe it was Jules, maybe it was the whole ordeal with Johnny and Dally, maybe it was both, but I started looking at Pony differently. He wasn't just my burden, he was my kid brother and we had a lot more in common than both of us would ever admit.

It was warm in the diner and I was glad for it. We sat down and ordered hamburgers and cokes from a waitress named Alice who smiled at us like we were her long lost grandson's. She called me 'handsome' and Pony thought it was funny. She called him 'sugar' which he didn't think was so funny.

Pony and I don't talk much, you know, and I think that's sort of the problem. When Soda's around, he talks enough for the both of us, so it's easy for us to go into our respective corners and shut up. This was sorta a test for me; be alone with Ponyboy and see what he has to say to me. Turns out, he doesn't have much to say. It didn't surprise me, but at least now I knew it wasn't just cause he couldn't get a word in edgewise around Soda. We sat there and ate our food in virtual silence, but I didn't get the impression that he was the least bit uncomfortable, and neither was I. Sometimes it takes a little change in your relationship with someone to realize it was probably okay the way it was. Sure, I shouldn't holler at Pony so much and he should listen better and use his head more, but when it came right down to it, neither one of us was gonna turn into Sodapop all of a sudden. I supposed that's why we had Sodapop to begin with. Nobody could be Soda but Soda.

It's easy for me to talk about school. Track. Sports. That's what we have in common.

"How's school going?"

Pony shrugged. "Okay."

"Any more problems in math?"

"Nope."

"Are there cute girls in that class?"

"Not really."

"How's track?"

"Fine."

Well, he is a teenager after all.

I paid the bill and I think we both felt a lot better -- fuller, anyways -- as we walked back to the truck. The wind had picked up and there was a chill every time it blew. I told him he was a knucklehead for forgetting a jacket. He muttered, "I know, I know."

When we were back in the truck, I felt Pony looking at me for a long time. I tried not to snap "What?!" at him, and just minded my own business starting up the ignition and turning into the road.

Finally he said, "How come you didn't make plans with Jules tonight?"

I almost just opened up my mouth and said, "She had something to do tonight," which woulda been the truth but I didn't want to make him feel like I was only taking him out because she was busy. I thought about giving him monosyllabic answers like he'd treated me to during my questions about school, but I ain't that immature. Most of the time. I just shrugged. "I ain't gonna see her every night."

Pony had taken his eyes off me, and when I glanced at him, he was looking out the passenger window. I could only see half his face in the darkness of the car.

"Are you guys like, a couple now?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. Things weren't as cut and dried as they were back when I was in high school. It wasn't like I was gonna ask her to wear my ring. You just didn't do that once you got to a certain age, and I felt like I was at that age. No way was I gonna tell Pony we'd slept together, how irresponsible could I get? I know he's been in on bull sessions the boys have had about various girls, but I just ain't into that kind of talk. I guess there's an age you get too old for that, too.

"I don't know," I said, and it was the closest thing to the truth I could think of.

Pony's eyes were back on me. He sure can be like Sodapop when he wants to. Persistent. Like a fly that keeps buzzin' around your ear and won't leave you alone no matter how many times you swat it.

"You like her, right?"

"Yeah. Of course I do."

I think I sounded defensive, and maybe Pony picked up on it because he didn't say anything else for the rest of the way home. I almost apologized a bunch of times, but kept biting my tongue to stop myself. Don't ask me why, I don't know. Sorry doesn't come outta my mouth that easy.

When we pulled up to the house, the porch light wasn't on and I almost scolded Pony for not putting it on before he came down to meet me at the work site. I bit my tongue on that one, too. No sense ruin a perfectly good evening with a fight that would be so predictable I could script it myself. Jeez, I really was going soft. Now I was avoiding fights with Pony? And Soda wasn't even around.

Maybe he could read my mind, because as we got out of the car he slipped the flannel off and handed it to me. "I walked to the site directly from the DX so I wasn't home to turn on the light."

I just nodded and hmmm'd. I took the shirt from him and veered off to get the mail out of the box before following him through the front gate and onto the porch. He stayed outside and lit up a cigarette.

"Pony," I said warningly.

He shrugged but kept smoking it. "This is the last of my pack. You said one pack a day."

I shook my head and walked past him into the house, flipping on lights as I went. I only let him smoke without much of a fight because it was the one thing I felt like I really couldn't control him doing. Plus, all of his friends smoked, and he never asked me for more than the carton that I bought for him every two weeks. I knew he was smoking more than that, which meant he was bumming them off of Two-Bit who had never paid for a box of cigarettes in his life, but I tried not to think about that.

I did up the dishes from breakfast and had settled into my armchair with the paper by the time Pony came in. "Are you readin' the paper or worryin' about the bills?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I folded the paper in half. "I'll be doin' my third favorite thing, _yelling_, real soon if you don't stop runnin' your mouth," I threatened, but we shared a grin as he plopped down on the sofa and flipped on the TV.

I tried to go back to the paper but I wasn't really reading it. I tried to look at what Pony had on the television but I wasn't really interested. "Did you do your homework?" I asked.

Bonding or not, I'm still the guardian around here.

"At the DX," Pony said absently.

I looked around the house. On the couch next to him, on the floor at his feet, on one of the dining room chairs, on the table. "And your backpack is…?"

I knew the answer before Pony said it. I saw him panic, his eyes follow the same path mine had, and then he went slightly pale. "At the DX," he said without looking at me.

No wonder I had spent the last year yelling my guts out at this kid. It was like the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I immediately started thinking about how this kid needed a good whoopin' to get his act together and was he ever gonna start thinking about _anything_?! It was real hard not to yell. I stood up, and realized my fists were clenching and my breath was coming real fast. If I hadn't been yelling for the last year, I mighta had a heart attack by now.

The clock said it wasn't yet ten. If we hurried, we could make it to the DX before Mr. Johnson closed it up. "Let's go," I said, and my voice sounded a hell of a lot more controlled than I felt.

Pony rushed past me and scrambled out of the house. I bit my lip real hard and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch, resisting the urge to wrap it around his neck and squeeze real hard. I just threw it at him as I jumped in the truck and sped off in the direction of the DX.

We didn't talk on the way there. I pulled into the parking lot while Mr. Johnson was locking the doors, and Pony jumped out and talked to him. I watched as they went inside to get it, again trying to talk myself out of letting him have it on the way home. Had Jules really gotten to me that much? Was I that different that I wasn't gonna yell at Pony for this boneheaded move? Even Soda would admit it was just dumb, dumb, dumb.

When Pony got back into the truck, clutching the backpack to his chest, he said, "I'm sorry, Darry." It was real quiet and I almost barked at him to repeat it real loudly so everyone in the next county could hear. Instead, I just gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. I tried to think about how Soda'd react. He'd say something like, "That was a boneheaded move, Pon," and ruffle him on the head as they got into the car and drove to the DX. He'd turn on the radio while they were driving, and some song would come on that distracted him from the whole purpose of the outing, and he'd spend the rest of the time singing along at the top of his lungs. No matter how much control over my anger I got, I could never just forget it. I envied Sodapop then.

We were back at the house before I realized, and I still hadn't yelled. Oh, I had everything in my head in the order in which I wanted to say it, and I wanted to say it in the loudest voice possible so he'd know I meant business, but for some reason I didn't. I was real sore, and real tired and I kinda just wanted to go to bed.

"Ain't you got anything to say?" Pony finally asked, looking at me as I turned off the ignition. His hand was on the door handle and I thought, if that's so you can run outta here real quick so I don't slaughter you, good plan.

"I'm disappointed," I finally said and I barely recognized the voice as mine. It was dad's. That was the harshest he ever got with us. Mom could yell somethin' awful, but dad sorta just shook his head and said "I'm disappointed," and it made you feel ten times worse.

Pony looked down at his lap. "You're not gonna yell at me?"

"I want to," I said honestly, and I thought I saw a flicker of a smile at the corner of Pony's lips. If it was there, he covered it up real fast, which was smart. "I wanna yell so loud your eardrums hurt for a week."

Maybe it was my honesty, or the fact that I still wasn't yelling, but Pony musta got braver because he looked up at me and cocked a half-grin. "Jules is gettin' to you."

"What?"

"Jules. Everything is different, and it's her. You can say it's not but we know it is. Her whole attitude is changing your whole attitude. It's not a bad thing, it's a good thing, and I'm real, real sorry I forgot my backpack."

He said it all in a rush, especially the apology at the end because I thought, oh no you don't change the subject back to Jules to try to distract me. I didn't know what to say when he was finished. No way, not me, Darrel Curtis is not going soft over a woman?! That's somethin' Two-Bit or Steve would say, but not me. Not Soda and Pony either, come to think of it. I sorta wanted to tell Pony it wasn't only Jules; that maybe I liked his and my new relationship and how we were getting along a whole lot better and I was scared to ruin that. I shoulda said that. If I was bein' honest and all, why couldn't I be completely honest?

I just slugged him on the shoulder. "Start usin' your head, kid, and we won't have these kinds of problems at all."

TBC…

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**Reviews for Chapter 9:**

_First off, note to everybody. Just so no one's shocked as we wind this thing up, it is in the Romance/Angst categories. Um, so, you know, could be some angst coming up. Don't say I didn't warn you. ((wink))_

_Also a note about last chapter, so I don't have to repeat it a dozen times in the review responses, we will see Darry's reaction more to what happened with Jules in the next chapter. This is sorta some Darry/Pony bonding filler. I guess. Enjoy anyway. _

_Thanks to everyone who gave me their opinion/feedback. It means the world to me. _

**miz**** jif** - Despite your misgivings, I am so glad you were able to connect with the chapter anyway. I think Darry's struggling with some new opportunities and how to balance them with his old life.

**Langley** - First of all, that might be the best piece of feedback I've ever seen. Thank you for your thoughts, both praise and concrit, and the explanation behind everything you said. I hope I've answered your question about the brother-bonding in this chapter; and don't worry, Soda's turn is coming up.

**Arantxa** - Thank you so much. I'm glad you liked it.

**Makado**** Felton** - Ah, there's a fine line between rushing a story and dragging it out. I may have one or two extra chapters going in, but I'm almost done with what I wanted to accomplish here. Hey, you can always go back and read it again!

**Jamie** - Thank you for the support and yes, I think they were sort of caught in a moment.

**Raggedy Anne** - Never read that book but I'll have to check it out! I hope you walking away in a daze was a good thing…

**Jess** - Thanks for reading and putting in your .02! It makes me feel good that you care about what's to come…but the pressure! Oh the pressure!

**Robot In Disguise** - I was thinking that same thing (about the age of people here) and I figured I could get my point across without actually spelling it out for everyone. Thanks for the feedback!

**Alejandra** - I'm glad you took a shot and read the story. It's icing on the cake that you enjoyed it so much! Thanks for chiming in!

**JPSquire** - Duly noted, and your opinion is always of value to me! I'm sorry that you thought it was too fast, and yes, I agree that it would have been better if they didn't have to "get caught up in the moment" but I'm in a catch-22 here with keeping the story a certain length while keeping things moving forward. It's tough, because I don't want to bore people with date after date after date while they wait an acceptable amount of time before becoming intimate, but then I ran the risk of people being disappointed that it was too fast. Oh well, I hope you'll stick with it in the end.

**Tessie** - Get Dirty Dancing out of your mind! ((wink))

**Bandit-Gurl42** - I try to avoid sappy as much as possible. Thanks!


	10. Doubt

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1.  
_

_A/N: I'm ready to wind this baby up. I've got 12 chapters and an epilogue, so three more posts to go after this one! Hang in there!_**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 10: Doubt**

Tuesday was spent in a daze, since I don't sleep unless both my brothers are home at their appointed curfew and Soda didn't get in until fifteen after midnight on Monday night. We spent another hour talking about why I hadn't yelled at Pony after the dumbass move he'd made leaving his book bag at the DX. Soda also thought it was Jules; but I didn't recall Jules ever saying to me, "Don't yell at Pony."

I wanted to see her again. It had only been two days but I felt like I should see her. Maybe because we had slept together, maybe because I just liked seeing her, I didn't know. I just thought I should. I told Soda we slept together. I wasn't sure I was gonna do it, but we were sitting there talking about Jules and I just did. Soda's the kind of person you can tell anything to and they'll understand. Well, maybe not understand but sure as hell try to. It also felt good to just say it and not have someone go, "Well that was a real horrible thing to do, Dar."

Because it wasn't horrible. I mean, of course it wasn't. I didn't feel horrible about it neither. I felt kinda good about it. Soda clapped me on the back at first and said something real classy like "Good going", except I musta given him a look or something because then he took his hand off of my back and said, "I mean, hmmm. How do you feel about that?"

Which made us both crack up. Mostly I didn't want him to think anything differently of Jules, which he said he didn't and I believed him. I mean, the girls we knew weren't good and proper, but they weren't all sluts. Some were, but not all. Not most, I supposed. Just girls who didn't mind hanging out with greasers. But I don't even think Jules knew what a "greaser" was.

In answer to his question, I said, "I feel guilty about it a little." That was partly the truth. The part I wanted to talk to him about, anyway.

Soda blinked at me. The smile on his face was gone. He looked truly confused. "Why? Does Jules regret it?"

"No."

"You were careful weren't ya? I never knew you not to be Mr. Responsible, even when it came down to banging girls."

First I gave him a look of disappointment. "Don't be crass." Then I nodded my head. "And yeah, of course I was careful. I ain't stupid."

In high school, I was like any other guy. I mean, I wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity to get laid when I was seventeen years old. And I was popular, so I had my chances. But I also had my future in front of me, shining like a spotlight. In my senior year, there were college scouts at almost every game. I got A's in school specifically to better my chances of playing football at a good college. I wasn't gonna mess that up by getting some girl pregnant. So I was always, always careful. My friends liked to tease me, and Soda -- when he got old enough to figure out what was going on -- called me Mr. Responsible and rolled his eyes. I let them tease me; I mean, I wasn't the one that was gonna get saddled with a kid when I shoulda been going to college.

Ha. How ironic life is.

"So what's to feel guilty about?" Soda persisted.

The words were there, but my tongue wouldn't let them escape my mouth. Soda came around the back of me and started rubbing my shoulders, which I knew would put me to sleep in no time. It was after one in the morning, I don't know what I was doing chatting up my kid brother when we both had to be up in less than six hours.

"You an' Pony," I finally blurted. I felt Soda's hands stop.

"I won't tell Pony," he said slowly. "He'll still be the young and innocent fourteen-year-old he always was." The sarcasm that laced Soda's voice was thick. "I mean, I can have that talk with him if you want. The birds and the bears…"

"Bees," I correctly sharply without really meaning to. I pushed a breath out while Soda chuckled at himself, and felt a small churning in my stomach. "And save your sarcasm, little buddy. I know Pony has heard everythin' he needs to hear to know everythin' he needs to know whenever he decides to get his nose up out of those books and start lookin' at girls. That's not what I meant. I meant that this has changed things between me and Jules, and I gotta find a balance between her and my life. I'm already neglecting you and Pony. I ain't comin' home on time, I'm lettin' y'all stay up until all hours, I'm givin' you money for hamburgers and cokes instead of being here cooking dinner like I should be! Hell, I ain't even yellin' at him anymore when he makes stupid boneheaded moves like leaving his backpack at the DX!"

I didn't bother to try to calm myself down. Soda had moved away from my back completely and I stood up, pacing around our small living room. Any second now I expected Pony to come sleepily outta his room, rubbing his eyes and asking what was going on, and that would just be the icing on the cake, wouldn't it? Hey Darry, don't just keep your one brother up until all hours, make sure you yell enough to keep em both up!

Soda was just watching me pace, and it seemed that the more heated I got, the calmer he did. He sunk back on the couch and just waited until my steam ran out, which, at one o'clock in the morning, happened pretty quickly. I exhaled and a little bit of the weight that I felt sitting on my shoulders most of the time lifted.

"I think you're bein' too hard on yourself," Soda finally said.

"Of course you do," I snapped. "You live life like it's one big carnival!"

Why I was taking it all out on Soda all of a sudden was beyond me. Just another thing to feel guilty about later. Since when had I gotten so out of control of my life? I wasn't all that happy before; I was happier now, but feeling like I was losing control. It comforted me a little that Soda only shrugged and didn't seem to take offense to what I'd said (or my tone of voice) at all.

"You should take a lesson, big brother, because you don't see me pacing around the living room at one in the morning feeling guilty for everything I've ever done!" Soda announced. He was grinning, like he'd won. And really, he had. Because he was content and I was rarely that way.

Soda yawned and stretched his lean body across the couch, lithe and graceful, like a cat. "I'm tired, Dar," he said finally, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

I looked him over, then hooked my hand and said, "Come on."

He followed me into my bedroom and lay down on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers. His eyes didn't close, though, they followed me around as I undressed and he didn't speak until I lay down next to him.

"I know you're worried that you're letting me and Pony down, and if you're not letting me and Pony down you're letting Jules down, and I just want to tell you, at least from me and Pony's end, that you're not. I mean, we're happy for you, we like Jules, we want you to spend time with her."

He was quiet, and I honestly didn't know what else to say. I was physically and mentally exhausted.

"I don't see why this has to be a big deal," Soda said, and I heard the drowsiness reaching his voice. "You an' Pony are getting along better than ever. You think you shoulda yelled at him about the DX, but I bet he'll _remember_ that you didn't. Maybe he'll be more careful because he doesn't want to disappoint you if you don't haul off and holler every time he makes a wrong move."

We didn't say anything else after that. Maybe Soda thought I'd fallen asleep because when I didn't respond he just sighed and turned over. His breathing was deep and regular within minutes. I stared at the ceiling and thought about everything Soda had said. I wasn't feeling one hundred percent guilt-free, but I supposed I never would. It just wasn't in my personality. I was, however, finally feeling relaxed enough to drop off to a much-needed slumber.

* * *

  
I didn't see Jules again until Friday when she came over after her class. She stood at the door with a bunch of books in her arms and said, "I heard you're not too bad at this math stuff."

It's not like people go around town saying things like, "Boy, that Darrel Curtis sure is good at math!", so I knew it had to be one of my brothers that let her in on that little secret. Pony was grinning at me from the table while I stood aside to let Jules in, and I knew he'd tipped her off.

"I'm the best chance you got in this house anyway," I said, glancing at Soda who was lying on the living room floor watching television and then at Pony. He was clearing books away to make room for Jules, who was opening a very thick textbook and a matching workbook.

"What kind of math do you have to do in nursing school?" Pony asked, peering across the table at what Jules was looking at. His face was screwed into an expression of concentration and for a second he looked exactly like Soda does when he's fixing a car. That kid's gonna be beating girls off with a bat if he keeps on growing up to look like Sodapop.

"It's called pharmacology math," Jules said, and as I pulled my chair next to her, I wondered why the hell she thought I could help her with something called pharmacology math. "It's basically how to convert measurements for medication doses."

Pony nodded and said, "Hmm." Then he looked at me real long and hard and started laughing.

I had to laugh too, and Jules looked at us like we were losing our minds.

"What?"

"I got A's in high school, Jules. But you don't learn pharmacology math in high school," I said.

She just grinned at me. "I didn't say I need you to _teach_ me how to do it, I need you to _help_ me figure it out. You, of all people Mr. Responsible Guardian, should know that." I caught her wink at Pony, who only shrugged.

We spent the next two hours working on conversions and ratios and stuff like that, and I have to admit that I wasn't half bad at figuring the stuff out. People _should_ go around town saying things like, "Boy, that Darrel Curtis sure is good at math!" Jules was grinning at her workbook as she looked over the last of the problems.

"Thank you," she said when she closed it and looked up at me. I was surprised at the gravity in her voice. She was still grinning though. "I was just gonna fake sick tomorrow if I couldn't get this done."

Soda was passing by the dining room table on his way to the kitchen, and he paused, putting his hand on the back of Jules' chair. He spent a few seconds looking at the examples in her textbook and shook his head.

"That's what I woulda done," he said definitively, then stepped around to Pony, ruffled his hair and ran screeching into the kitchen with Pony on his heels.

I chuckled at both of them and silently hoped they wouldn't break any more dishes as they wrestled in the kitchen, each trying to mess up the other's hair. I never met two people who cared more about their hair than my brothers. Well, maybe Steve. It was a minute before my eyes drifted back to Jules and I found her looking at me unabashedly.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

Then her eyes drifted back to her books and she started stacking them into a pile. "I should go," she said absently.

It wasn't yet nine. "Don't," I said, so quickly that I even surprised myself. She glanced up briefly and smiled, but it was what my dad liked to call a 'regret to inform you' smile. You knew 'no' was coming soon after.

"Take a walk with me?" I asked, standing up and shoving my hands into my pockets. I didn't know why, but I just wanted to get out of there and talk to her. "Just around the block," I added on when her expression hadn't changed.

I saw her soften. She stood up and glanced at my brothers who were now leaning against the kitchen counters, breathing hard and sucking down glasses of chocolate milk. "Ten minutes," she said to me.

I hadn't realized Soda and Pony could hear us, or were even listening, but when I turned around I saw Soda nod and roll his eyes. "Yeah yeah, go. I think I can babysit this monkey for ten minutes."

Pony put his glass down, real slow, but anyone who knew him would recognize that Soda had about a three second head start before Pony threw his lanky body toward him and more wrestling ensued. Soda grinned cheekily and took off toward their bedroom. I heard a huge crash, the lamp they're always knocking down but somehow not breaking, and sighed. Pony wasn't even in there yet.

"Are they always rough housing?" Jules asked, starting to pick up her books. I took the stack and walked out onto the porch while she fished around in her purse for her keys. I was about to say no, but why lie?

"Pretty much," I said instead. "Pony not so much, but Soda and Steve and Two-Bit would just wrestle and fight all day long if they didn't have to stop to eat and work. Pony wrestles with Soda when Steve's not here, probably to help Soda with all that extra energy so he doesn't keep Pony up all night runnin' his mouth."

Jules laughed and put the key in the lock of her trunk, popping it open. I set the books inside and she smiled up at me as she slammed the lid closed. "Thanks again for the homework help," she said, leaning into me.

I put my arms around her. "Homework is my favorite thing to do after a long day's work."

Her laughter was soft but it reached my ears and made me feel all warm inside. "Mine too," she agreed whole-heartedly. Then her hand slipped into mine and she stepped out of my embrace, pulling me along the street. "Walk?"

I followed her start, keeping her hand tucked tightly into mine as we walked past the run-down front yards of my neighbors. The good thing about my street is that it's relatively quiet. My house isn't so much, but there aren't a bunch of loud parties and stuff going on. Mostly if there is noise, it's dogs, kids or yelling. Tonight, no one seemed to be fighting and we could hear the crickets chirping at us as we walked along.

"When my mom and dad bought the house, the neighborhood wasn't so bad," I told Jules. I didn't know why I said it, but it was like I wanted her to know.

"I don't think it's so bad now," she said back. I knew she was lying because of how she felt about her own place, but I didn't say anything. I sorta appreciated the lie.

"Tell me about your mom and dad," she said in my silence.

She'd seen the pictures we have in the living room, but I didn't talk much about them. I just don't know what to say when people ask me. I mean, there are a hundred stories I could tell, but it still kinda hurts. It's not that I'm trying to forget, it's just that I'm not ready to remember yet.

"Well you know I look just like my dad and Soda looks just like my mom," I started out.

"Pony's gonna grow up to look an awful lot like Soda," Jules supplied, and I nodded my agreement even though she wasn't looking at me. We were passing the Tanner house. I used to be real good friends with their son Joey, who was my age, until he beat up Soda because Joey's girlfriend flirted with him in school. I wasn't sure what Joey was doing now, but I was pretty sure he was off in college somewhere because I never saw him around.

I shook my head. Weird, how memories come if you just quiet your mind long enough to let them.

"I have my mom's personality, though. And Soda's just like my dad. Pony's somewhere in between."

"Which means your mom was strict and your dad was carefree," Jules said, and from the corner of my eye I saw her glance up at me. I looked at her and she was half-smiling, like she wasn't sure if she shoulda said it.

I inclined my head. "Yeah, pretty much." I knew I was done talking about my parents. This is how I am, see. I just don't like to do it. Even with Jules. A year ain't that long, you know, after you lose your parents. I mean, me, Soda and Pony had all had a birthday without them, we had our first Christmas without them…those are sort of milestones I guess, but it's not like it gets any easier as you keep having birthdays and Christmases. They're still gone.

"What about your dad?" I asked.

She squeezed my hand. She knew I was changing the subject, but that was okay. We turned the corner at the end of the block and made our way around to the other side. The park was at our backs and I was trying to ignore it as best I could.

"We're close," she said with a heavy sigh. "I don't remember my mom, she left when I was two. He raised me and it was just us." She paused for a long time and we walked in silence. "It was real hard to decide to come out here. But when I got the scholarship we sorta decided that I had to. I'd probably be at Santa Monica Junior College now if I didn't."

She laughed, but only she knew the joke because I'd never been outside of Oklahoma, much less all the way to California. "Plus, my dad had this theory," she said. "If you love something, let it go."

"That's not a theory," I said mildly. "That's a quote by someone."

She just said, "Hmm."

We were approaching my house again. It was quiet inside except for the occasional canned laughter from the television, and I took that as a good thing. She stopped by her car and I turned to face her. The walk had been nice, but it hadn't accomplished what I'd wanted it to, which was to talk to her. _Really_ talk to her.

"You still have something on your mind," she said, reaching up and touching my cheek with her fingertips. Her eyes were searching me, and I felt that now-familiar fluttering in the pit of my stomach; excitement combined with nervousness that if she just looked long enough, she'd be able to read all of the secrets inside of me. I felt exposed around her, and it was nerve-wracking for someone like me.

"We didn't talk about what happened the other night and I wanted to make sure you were alright with everything," I said in a rush.

She stepped back and blinked. Was she surprised at the question? I couldn't tell. "Are _you_ alright with everything?"

It was my turn to be surprised. I nodded quickly. "Yeah, I mean, if you are."

Her lips were tugging into a frown and I wanted to run my thumb over them, make it disappear. "I was until now," she said dubiously.

Good going, Darry.

She sighed heavily when I didn't respond. I didn't really trust myself not to mess things up anymore. Everyone has those moments where you feel like nothing you say is right, and every time you open your mouth you make things just a little bit worse. This was one of those times for me.

"I don't sleep around," she said suddenly, and she was biting hard on her lip. I did reach up and touch her mouth with my thumb this time, but she shook away. "I know you must be thinking, boy that was really easy -- "

"I'm not thinking that!" I almost shouted.

She didn't seem phased by the outburst, instead she seemed fueled by it. "I just thought we had this connection, you know? It sounds stupid when I say it now, but at the time I thought it."

"What do you mean _thought_?" I asked. "You don't think it now?" My voice was considerably softer, but I honestly don't think she noticed one way or the other. I put my hands on either one of her shoulders and she went to shrug out of it but I held her fast. Made her look at me. Made her pay attention.

"I don't think anything less of you because of what happened, and I thought you knew that," I said firmly. "Aren't you the one who said 'no regrets'?"

She blinked. Maybe brought back into the moment, I don't know, but she looked about to cry and I hated it.

"I really like you Darry," she said, softly this time. "I'm trying to make this work but I'm not good at it. You're _obviously_ not good at it either so I try to act like I have everything figured out, like nothing bothers me but it does. And what happened, I couldn't stop it and I don't think you could either, and now I can only hope it didn't mess things up."

Obviously I'm not good at it either? I ignored that part for the moment and rubbed my hands up and down her shoulders. "Why do you think it messed things up?" I asked quietly. "I just want to make sure you're okay, and that I'm doing what you need me to be doing." I pushed a breath out. "I'm having a tough time making sure everybody I need to take care of is taken care of."

Her shoulders sagged, I felt it beneath my palms. "I don't need taken care of," she said quietly and I wouldn't have heard her if the night hadn't gone so quiet. "Your brothers do and I don't want to get in the way of that."

I pulled her into me, praying she wouldn't resist. She didn't, putting her arms around my waist and burying her face into my chest. The top of her head came just below my chin.

"None of this is coming out the way I meant it to," I said honestly.

I felt the vibrations of her chuckle deep inside of me.

"I want to spend time with you, I don't regret anything that happened, and I'm trying to keep my household and my work in order."  
  
"I know you are," she said. She had pulled back and laced her fingers around my neck. She stood on her tip toes and kissed me. "This is supposed to be fun, not hard. If it's another burden, just something else for you to worry about, I don't want it." Her fingers came away from my neck and she put one hand firmly on my stomach. "As a nursing student I have to tell you, you're headed straight for an ulcer."

I tilted my head and smiled at her. "You make me worry less, not more," I said honestly. "I'm hardly yelling at Pony anymore and just the other day I actually caught myself saying, 'If it was meant to be, it was meant to be.' "

She was cracking up, but I was not joking.

"I said that out loud. To a person!" I continued. She obviously did not get how unlike me it was, because she was practically doubled over on the sidewalk. I just stood there, hands folded over my chest and waited for her to calm down. She was wiping tears from her eyes once she did.

"Sorry," she said, breathless. "Lord, that was funny."

"I'm happy to amuse you," I said without mirth.

She frowned, but it was one of those I'm-trying-not-to-laugh frowns, and put her hand on my shoulder. "You're a doll," she said for no apparent reason.

"Listen," I said, putting both my arms around her waist and pulling her close to me. "Do you still want this? Because I still want this. You make me less stressed, not more stressed. And from a medical standpoint, I think any doctor would say that I should spend as much time with you as possible."

She tilted her head and a slight breeze lifted up a few strands of her hair and blew them wildly about her head. Her eyes seemed to glow in the yellow-glare of the streetlight outside my house.

"Well, if it's for medical purposes, then yes. Sure, I still want this."

She grinned cheekily at me before leaning forward and up, recapturing my lips with hers.

My mom always told me life was like a puzzle, and sometimes you'd easily be able to find the pieces you needed, and sometimes you'd have to look a little harder. I was sorta relieved it seemed that the pieces were falling into place. At least for now.

TBC…

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**Reviews for Chapter 9:**

_This review thread has become quite an interesting discussion on the characterization of Darry. I love hearing everyone's thoughts, so keep em coming!_

**Makado**** Felton** - You're so sweet! Thank you!

**dawndragon** - Well thank you very much for the compliment and for reviewing the story!

**wynn** - Well if you're feedback is always going to be so insightful, then talk away! I loved what you had to say about Darry, and thank you so much for adding a review.

**kaz456** - There's definitely a limit or all hell would break loose. LOL Hope you enjoyed more brother-bonding in this chapter, too!

**miz**** jif** - I think the Darry/Pony relationship is one of the --if not THE-- most intriguing relationships in the book. It's nice to have a chance to flesh it out from Darry's POV. I'm glad you're enjoying.

**Sodapop's#1gurl** - Everyone deserves a break from reviewing. I'm glad you came back, though!

**Vincenza** - Well here it comes. LOL Thanks for reviewing.

**Julie** - Thanks for your thoughts on both 8 and 9. I'm glad you liked both.

**JPSquire** - Ramble away. Everything you say is appreciated! I hope I didn't sound defensive, I was just trying to explain why I made the choices I did. Please, if you have something to say whether it's praise or constructive criticism, say it! That's how I know you care about what I'm doing!

**Jess** - Ah, no pressure. No pressure. Sometimes you just gotta sit back and have faith in yourself and your choices, right?

**Tessie** - Yeah, PS is a little hottie in Dirty Dancing, isn't he? I don't blame you for having him on the brain. Oh, and it is grammatically correct to just leave thoughts as they are (no quotations or italics or anything) but I can see how it'd be hard to follow. I'll try to remember to make them stand out more.

**chibinataly** - I love to see new faces chiming in. Thank you for reading the story and for letting me know you were reading! Hope to hear more of your thoughts.

**Bandit-Gurl42** - ((huggles reviewer)) Thanks so much!


	11. Disaster

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1.  
_

_A/N: I'm updating quickly because I have the story written and finished, and it's at this point that I just want to get it out there so I can stop thinking about it. LOL! Read on, and don't be too angry for the angst. I heart the angst, and trust me, it won't end up so bad._**  
  
  
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 11: Disaster**

People coming into my house in the middle of the night usually doesn't phase me; I leave the door open for a reason. They're usually not quiet about it neither, stumbling in and knocking things over and falling with a thud onto the couch (or the floor if they miss). It's rare that I don't wake up and hear it, and although I don't get up, I play a game by trying to guess who it is and then I see if I'm right in the morning.

Nobody ever comes into my room unless it's one of my brothers and I'm sleeping in. Which I rarely do. Even on my days off I'm usually the first one up. I was only half-awake when I heard my door creak open, and a dim light from the hallway cast a yellow rectangle on the floor in front of the bed.

"Pony?"

I heard a small sniff and the mattress dip and then it was Jules' hand reaching out for me. I sat up quickly. "Jules? What're you doing here? You're gonna wake up Pony!"

I didn't mean to sound like that but gosh, it honestly was the first thing that came to mind. Having a woman in my room, I couldn't even imagine how quickly the state would take Pony away if they thought I was doing those sorts of things with women while he was under the same roof. One time, Two-Bit asked me how I ever planned to get laid, and when I said I didn't, I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head.

She put her hand on my chest and seemed to be taking deep breaths. I started to wonder if she'd run all the way over. "What's wrong?"

Silence, just her breathing. I felt really, really out of it. The way she sounded, I thought she might cry or she already had been or both, and I was getting kinda scared. "Jules. Tell me what happened."

"Darry, my dad died."

Her voice sounded hollow when she said it. Emotionless. "I need milk at the grocery store." "Gas is twenty cents a gallon." "Darry, my dad died."

Jesus.

I swallowed hard, about to say something really profound like "huh?" or "oh," but then she broke. Like a wave just washed over her or something and she started crying real hard. I pulled her closer and she just buried her face into my chest and cried. I didn't have a shirt on, and I could feel the wetness of her tears. She cried hard, bawling, like Pony and Soda had at mom and dad's funeral. I felt the familiar hurt in my heart creeping back. I ran my hand over her back and tightened my arms around her, sorta rocking her back and forth.

I didn't say things like, "It's gonna be okay," or "Shh, don't cry," because those kinds of things are not only useless to someone who has completely lost it, but they can sound condescending, too. I just pressed my face into the top of her head, breathed in the smell of her shampoo and held her.

My door was already open, and Pony's shadow fell through the light coming in from the hallway. He was rubbing his eyes. "Dar?"

"It's okay, Pony," I whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Too much to hope for that he'd do just that.

"What's going on? Is that Jules?"

"Yeah." I made my voice a little louder, and a little firmer. "I need you to go back to sleep."

He's as stubborn as the rest of us. He stepped further into the room, and I could tell he was more alert now. That was not a good sign. Pony was notorious for waking up in the middle of the night and not going back to sleep because he couldn't shut his mind off. He has a real active imagination. Lucky for me, when Soda slept he was dead to the world. I'd only have to deal with one brother until morning.

"Is she okay?"

"No, Pony! I got it under control! Go to bed!"

I didn't feel too hot about yelling at him. My temper's real bad when I'm stressed; sometimes worse than when I'm mad. He turned around and started walking back to his room. I probably coulda let him go, he'd have understood once he figured out what was going on, but I called him back anyway.

"Ponyboy."

Jules was still bawling, but her sobs were getting quieter.

"Get a box of tissues and a glass of water, wouldja?" I asked as my brother turned around.

He nodded, and I think he was happy to help. He came back with them and stood quietly by the bed. Now I really wanted him to go back to sleep, but I couldn't figure how to tell him without hurting his feelings again.

"Sorry for yelling," I said instead, and his head just dipped in acknowledgement. He doesn't really like apologies any more than I do, but I've been trying real hard to keep up my end of the bargain and give one when I know he deserves it. He always apologizes when I'm hollering for a good reason, so I figure I gotta apologize when I'm just hollering because I'm sore about something.

"What happened?"

He asked in a whisper, but he really didn't need to. There was no danger of waking up Soda, that was for sure. Jules was just sorta whimpering now, and her breath was coming real fast. Maybe she was gonna hyperventilate.

"Her dad died," I said, and her breath hitched but she didn't freak out.

Pony was quiet, but you could tell in his expression that he was real sorry he'd asked. I pulled Jules a little bit away from me; I had to force her but she finally let up a little where she was holding me around the middle. Her face was red and puffy and the tears that weren't streaked down my chest were streaked down her cheeks.

"Are you gonna hyperventilate on me?"

She shook her head no, and Pony handed me the glass of water. I took it, and handed it to Jules. Then I mouthed to Pony, "Go. To. Bed."

He reached out and touched Jules on the back of the head, then turned around and headed back down the hall.

I set the box of tissues between us. She started to wipe her eyes and I used a bunch to mop up my chest. It was the most unsexy way I could think of to have Jules in my bed. Just the way my luck went, I supposed.

"Darry, I'm sorry," she croaked out, and it sounded like she was gonna start crying again. Her lip was trembling.

"Shh," I soothed, pushing her hair off her face. She needed a hair tie. I grabbed a bandana that I had in a drawer near my bed and tied her hair back with that. She looked a little more pulled together like that. "What happened?"

She shook her head and at first I thought she was gonna say she didn't know and start crying again. But she took another swallow of water and exhaled hard. "A car accident," she said. I flashed back to the police officers that had shown up at my door a year ago. "An accident," they said. "Your parents died at the scene."

I took her back into my arms, and maybe it was as much for my comfort as it was for hers. "Baby, I'm sorry." She cried again but it was less desperate this time, and I didn't think she was in danger of hyperventiliating.

When tragedy strikes, it's easier for me to go into 'fix it' mode. I like to think about what I need to do and start doing it. I can't sit around and just think about what happened. Most people aren't like me, and I know that now. Instead of asking, "What do you need me to do," I let her cry. I lay back down, pulling her with me, and pulled the covers over both of us. It was three in the morning. I idly wondered if she'd run over or driven. I couldn't figure which one might be more dangerous. Walking around at this time of night in this neighborhood was never a good idea. Driving in her emotional state might have been worse.

These are the kinds of thoughts I occupy myself with to get through it. So I don't cry, show emotion, weakness. I pulled the bandana out of her hair and ran my fingers through it. I did that over and over again until her breathing slowed and evened out. Her sniffling stopped and she fell asleep with her head on my chest.

* * *

  
At ten past seven, I knew I needed to get my brothers up. Steve would be showing up in the next twenty minutes to collect Soda and I wanted to make sure Jules was left alone. I managed to wiggle out from underneath her, and when she hit the mattress she mumbled something that sounded a lot like my name. I tried not to think about it.

I looked at her for a minute, maybe several, and felt my heart breaking. I hate that helpless feeling. I'd felt that way about Ponyboy when he was mourning Johnny and I honestly couldn't stand that he was hurting and there was nothing I could do to fix it. She looked peaceful, lying there, wrapped up in the blankets like they would shield her from the world. I wished they would. I wished **I** could.

Grabbing my work clothes, I shut the door firmly behind me and as I turned I saw Ponyboy and Soda both stumbling sleepily from their room. Soda opened his mouth, maybe to yawn, maybe to call the shower first, but I shushed him quickly regardless of what he was about to do. He blinked and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"What're you doing up so late?"

I was usually showered and dressed and in the kitchen making up their breakfasts by now.

"Jules is here," Pony supplied for me, looking at my closed door.

Soda's eyebrows shot up and he was awake instantly, but the gleeful look on his face faded because I glared at him much harder than I'd meant to.

"Don't jump to conclusions, little buddy," I remarked toughly. "Her dad died."

Soda leaned against the wall. "Oh."

"She was a wreck last night," Pony added, looking nervously at me. To me he said, "Is she okay?"

I shrugged. For someone so emotional, he wasn't too smart about emotions. 'No, she ain't okay,' I wanted to say. 'Were you okay the day after mom and dad died?' I didn't say any of that. I bit my tongue real hard to keep from snapping, because I wasn't mad at Pony. I was frustrated and scared and I always get real mean when I'm frustrated and scared.

"She's sleeping," I finally said. The boys looked real sorry, and I'm sure they were, but it wasn't helping the situation any. My mind was screaming at me to move on. Business as usual. Get everyone going so you don't have to think about it! "Look, we gotta get moving," I said, tapping Soda on the shoulder. "Steve'll be here in fifteen minutes, so you get the shower first. Pony, you go second. I think Two-Bit's coming by to walk with you to school." I glanced back at my closed bedroom door. "Keep your traps shut, alright?" I ordered rather than asked them. They nodded obediently and Soda disappeared into the bathroom while Pony went to start the eggs.

I looked down at my hands. Helpless. I hated it. I picked up the phone and called my foreman, telling him I was going to be a little late, maybe not in at all. I never took sick days or vacation, so he was real nice about it, but I still felt guilty as hell. One time I'd even gone into work with a hundred and two degree fever, and got through lunch before anyone noticed anything was wrong and Mr. Taylor sent me home. My mom taught me that you reap what you sow. I always took that to mean the harder you work, the more you get. I wondered why it seemed like I was always comin' up short.

Pony handed me a cup of coffee and I took it to the dining room table along with the newspaper. It was hard to believe not twelve hours ago I was thinking how things were finally coming together. Now my mind was swimming and mostly I was thinking about Jules.

Soda and Pony did their best to hurry up and get ready so that Steve and Two-Bit were hanging around our house as little as possible. There was no way to keep them quiet; even if we had told them Jules was asleep in the other room. I knew first hand that it was physically impossible to keep Two-Bit from talking for more than two or three minutes at a time. When we were younger, we used to time him. His record for keeping quiet was 3 minutes and 47 seconds. He said he even talked in his sleep, and boy howdy did we believe it.

I usually leave the house before Ponyboy and Two-Bit do, so I wasn't used to the silence that surrounded me the moment they were out of the house and far enough down the street that I couldn't hear them yelling anymore. I even heard the ticking of the old grandfather clock that belonged to my mother's grandparents, and I didn't know it even ran anymore. It didn't keep the right time, but it apparently still ticked.

I took a shower and got dressed for work even though I wasn't sure what Jules wanted or needed me to do. I wanted to do anything I could, _everything_ I could, and I couldn't remember feeling that urgent need to protect and shelter someone that wasn't one of my brothers (or Johnny Cade) in a long, long time.

Before I went back into my room to check on Jules, I poured a cup of coffee and added milk to it. She stirred when I walked in. I expected her to be awake. No one could sleep through the racket Two-Bit and Steve make, no matter how abbreviated their visit this morning was. Well, maybe Soda could, but no normal person. Her hair was a mess again and I had to smile at her. She didn't smile back. I sat on the edge of the bed and held out the coffee to her. She shook her head no. I put it on the night table and reached out, and she crawled into my arms without saying anything.

I thought for a minute she might start crying again, but she only sniffled a little and heaved a heavy sigh. Then she was quiet, and I combed my fingers through her hair and out of her face. She let me hold her for a long time before she pulled herself up, climbing onto her knees to look me in the eyes. There was a sadness in her eyes I didn't expect. I don't know why, but it shocked me. It scared me. She was looking at me with eyes that were so different from the eyes I'd come to know, I barely recognized them. Deep pools of sorrow that looked like they might never, ever light up again.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead and felt her palm press against my cheek. She guided my face downward and I kissed her nose, then her cheek, and finally her lips. Sighing into my mouth, she kissed me with a desperate urgency I wasn't expecting. My mind grew less focused. Everything blurred. Dimly, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what was happening and my conscience was screaming at me to stop it. But in the front of my mind, I was aware of her hands and her lips and her body.

"Darry," she whispered after a while, and I felt her hands tugging at my shirt. She managed it halfway up my torso before I had to break away from her. Hearing her voice all broken with sorrow was the wake-up call I needed. I pushed my shirt down and she stared at me.

"Jules, not like this, not now," I said, and I briefly wondered why every decision was so damn difficult to make. I didn't know the right thing to do in a situation like this. How could I? How would anyone?

She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again. Her eyes filled with tears and a sob choked in her throat. I saw her deflate; like her whole body just folded into itself and she might never sort out again. She crumpled to the bed crying and repeating something over and over that I'm pretty sure was, "God, why me?"

I gathered her to me and tried to hold her again, but she fought against me. She crawled to the other side of the bed, which wasn't far because it ain't a real big bed, and curled herself into a tiny ball. She sniffed.

"Don't touch me."

I swear my heart stopped beating completely.

* * *

  
I had read in one of my psychology books that when someone faces tragedy, they seek intimacy. Something about it being a way to combat the feelings of loss; to lose themselves in something else which puts off the inevitable despair.

I sat there on the bed, rejected and helpless, and just watched her for a real long time. Eventually, her crying stopped, and her breathing started to deepen. Just before she fell asleep, she mumbled, "I'm in love with you, Darry." I didn't say anything back because she didn't sound happy to say it. She sounded miserable.

It was real hard not to feel like I'd just done something unforgivable.

I lay down and tried to sleep, but I knew it'd be impossible. I was already feeling like the scum of the earth so I put both of my feet on the floor and pushed myself out of bed. She shifted when I did, but her breathing stayed regular. She ended up on her stomach with one arm flung above her head, her dark hair spread out at all angles like it had a mind of its own. I wished I could be looking at her asleep in my bed under totally different circumstances. I wished I could feel as happy and carefree as I had just a few nights ago. I wished I hadn't had to say no to her, and I wished I was looking forward to her waking up, going off to make her breakfast in bed or steal a rose out of Mrs. Blake's garden to put on the pillow next to her.

Instead I was escaping. I couldn't lie to myself. I was scared of her tears when she woke up, when she realized that her daddy was still dead. The newspaper was still on the table and my coffee was where I'd left it. It was ice cold now. I tossed it out and brewed another pot. I called my foreman and told him I wasn't coming in at all. He was a cool old guy. He never asked why and just said, "Take as much time as you need, Curtis."

The more time I took, the worse I felt. I drank my coffee on the porch but went in real quick when I saw Steve's mom drive down the street. I didn't want to talk to anyone. The house was still so quiet. It's never quiet. It was like the house knew there had been another death.

Another death. It never ended.

I went back into my bedroom, took off my shirt and crawled back into bed with Jules. I wanted to be there when she woke up; it didn't matter if she was mad at me. This wasn't about me, I knew that. It was about her.

She muttered something I couldn't understand as she burrowed toward me, lifting her legs up and curling almost into a ball before pressing into the arc I'd made with my body. She fit. Again I found myself wishing she was here under totally different circumstances. Except I think it's physically impossible for me to stay in bed all day, even with a woman. So needless to say, I was itchin' after only a few minutes. There was nothing to do but think about how little I could actually help.

I knew Jules was an only child and I knew her father had a sister in Pittsburgh who rarely kept in touch and was always drunk. She didn't have much family and never seemed to mind. I hadn't either, until my folks died. Then you sorta sit around and think, how'd it get this way? Why does everyone else but me have cousins from out of state, aunts who knit, rich uncles, grandmas who smell like macaroni and cheese and grandpas who pull quarters out of your ear?

Jules sighed; I felt her breath warm against my chest. I stroked her hair and put a kiss on the top of her head.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

She startled me. I had honestly thought she was sleeping but her voice didn't sound heavy with sleep. It sounded ragged with too much emotion. Thick, like a drunk person without slurring.

"I took the day off," I said into her hair.

It was quiet for a long time and I thought maybe she'd fallen back asleep. It wasn't very often that I was home in the middle of the day and I idly wondered if Ponyboy ever skipped school and came back. I figured there was more of a chance of Two-Bit doing that, but he'd be bored in a house all alone and unless he wanted to keep the company of Tim Shepard or one of their outfit, there wasn't anyone else to come by. I missed Dally and Johnny something fierce, but there usually ain't time to think about it. Now there was nothing to do but think. Death does that.

"Sorry about earlier," Jules said.

I shook my head quickly. "Don't." I wasn't sure what else to say. I thought maybe I should apologize too, but I couldn't figure out how.

Jules sniffled and moved a little closer to me.

"Are you gonna cry again?"

Boy howdy, what a great thing to say. I can be such a lunkhead sometimes. I was relieved to hear a small, bitter chuckle.

"No. I was thinkin' about it, but no."

She sat up real quick, like she might cry if she didn't. I wanted to get up and give her a cup of coffee, but her eyes were holding me there; I was sorta scared to move.

"I mean, it won't help, will it? This empty feeling I have. The crying won't help?"

If you woulda listened real hard, you woulda heard my heart break right then, I was sure of it. I wanted to hold her but she looked stiff. And honestly, I was scared to try after what happened earlier. I reached out and touched nothing and my hand fell to the mattress between us.

"It might help," I said. But the truth was, it wouldn't. Not really. Maybe for that moment but when you finish crying and you look around, they're still gone. You feel cheated.

She shrugged anyway, she like didn't believe me. Smart girl.

"So what do you have to do?" I asked. "I mean, what's first?" What I really meant was, 'What can I do besides lay here like a helpless fool?' I didn't say that, though.

She shrugged a little. A lock of hair tumbled over her shoulder. "I have to go home to California," she said. She didn't sound mad or sad or anything when she said it. Just a fact. I have to go home to California.

I'd expected "I have a bunch of phone calls to make," or "I have to figure out the funeral," or "Talk to the lawyers," or hell, even "I don't know." I was gonna _help_ her with these things. "I have to go home to California?" Well, I wasn't sure I wanted to help her do that.

Maybe I'd been quiet for a long time, I don't know, because she put a hand on mine and said my name. Real sweet. Then she said, "Please understand."

It was starting to sound bad. Was she going and never coming back? I said, "Of course I understand. Whatever you need, I'm gonna help you."

Except deep down everyone's selfish, I ain't no exception and I didn't want her to leave. I was real proud that I kept myself from saying it out loud. Only now, looking back, maybe I shoulda just been honest.

TBC…

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**Reviews for Chapter 10:**

**_To everyone: _**_The character analysis going on here is so amazing, and will serve to make my (and everyone else's) writing better in the future. Thanks so much, guys!_

**Jess** - Glad you liked it, and yes, I grappled with the fact of whether Darry would reveal something like that to Soda. I suppose there's no one else for Darry to confide in, which is really sad.

**Jenna** - You ain't see nothing yet. LOL Thanks for the review.

**Langley**** & dawndragon** - Wow, what reviews. Don't be offended that I put you together, but I just wanted to say the same response to both of you. It made me start thinking a lot about Soda and how/why he goes through life the way he does. I think there are people like Darry and there are people like Soda, and all the Soda's in the world need Darry's, but at the same time all the Darry's in the world need Soda's.

**miz**** jif** - Well thank you! I'm incredibly flattered to hear you're going back and reading paragraphs over, since a lot of the time the detail seems like it would only be important to me since I have a clear vision of the story and my characters in my head. That you're that engaged is very encouraging. Thanks!

**Tonyboy** - You romantic, you! Thanks for chiming in, and I'm glad you're enjoying.

**Vincenza** - Heh, don't be too disappointed with me after this chapter.

**Bandit-Gurl42** - Thanks, you always have such positive things to say!

**Megan** - Thanks for leaving feedback and I'm glad you're liking it.

**Sodapop's#1Gurl** - Should I be offended by your question or am I just not understanding it? No, I didn't "borrow" this from anyone, it's straight from my imagination to your computer.

**kaz456** - Glad you liked the Darry-Soda interaction. I like Soda and I liked writing it because he and Darry are so different.

**Raggedy Anne** - It's okay if you don't review every chapter. It's nice to know you're reading and liking it. And no, everything's not peachy keen, now is it? LOL!

**Tessie26** - Hey, you were just telling me what would be easier to read, that's not a problem! I'm glad you liked the chapter, and don't kill me for all this angst.

**Julie** - All good things must end. ((sigh)) Everything seems bad now, but hang in there.

**Maddy** - Ha ha, I didn't even know SMC was a real place. Well have fun there!

**Makado**** Felton** - Glad you liked! Thanks for your review!


	12. Goodbye

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._**  
  
A/N:**_You're getting two posts for the price of one because Chapter 12 is short and it really needs the epilogue to wrap things up. Thanks for reading and I'm looking forward to hearing everyone's thoughts on my final offering!_**  
  
  
  
  
Not Today  
Chapter 12: Goodbye**

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I really didn't say much as I went with Jules back to her apartment to make phone calls, including one to the college where she deferred her enrollment, and one to a moving company where she made arrangements for a truck to come in several days to pick up her stuff and drive it back to California.

Inside I was screaming, but I didn't say anything. Maybe I thought that was the way to be supportive? Maybe I was too scared to beg her not to go.

After all those phone calls, she excused herself to take a shower and freshen up. Her shower was over an hour long and I know I heard crying in there, but when she came back out she was composed and I didn't say anything. I hugged her a lot though, whenever I could, and she seemed to appreciate that. But she never cried in front of me again.

She went with me back to my house around dinner time, and politely answered every question Pony and Soda had. It seemed like she was on auto-pilot, which I could understand. She seemed very calm and reasonable, which I could not understand. The things that were coming out of her mouth were _not_ reasonable! She couldn't be leaving, could she?

It wasn't until late, past eleven o'clock I think, that I actually took her into my bedroom, shut the door and tried to figure out the words I needed to get the answers I needed.

"Explain this to me, Jules," was what I ended up saying, which is often what I end up saying to Ponyboy when he's doing something I just totally don't get. Which is a lot. I never realized how much she was like both my brothers in different ways until today.

She sighed and put her hand on my arm. "I gotta go, Darry," she said.

That didn't help me. "Look," I said, and I hated the urgent, sick feeling I was getting in my stomach. "I'll drive with you back to California. I'll help you with the funeral."

I couldn't do that. Anyone in their right mind knew I couldn't do that. The state would take Pony and Soda away so fast, not to mention we'd go belly up within a week. She was smiling at me, a sad, knowing smile that never had good news following it. The regret-to-inform-you smile. I suddenly missed my parents with a fierce urgency I thought had disappeared a long time ago.

"I have to get the house in order," she said softly. She didn't even address my offer to drive with her. She didn't need to. We both knew I couldn't. "Box up everything, figure out what I'm going to do with it all, and sell the house. I don't know how long it's gonna take me." She paused, blew a breath out. "It's better this way, Darry. I'm not saying I'm not coming back, but I don't know for sure and I can't just -- " She cut herself off but blinked at me and I was caught in those eyes again. "Please understand."

"No, I don't understand." I was trying not to get sore but it was hard. I wanted to say, 'I wouldn't leave you,' but I couldn't say that for sure either. I wanted to say, 'I thought this meant more to you,' but I knew it meant a lot to her. Throwing guilt trips her way wasn't going to do anything but add resentment to an already tough situation.

"I'm sorta scared, too," she whispered, and it was so soft I wondered if I was supposed to hear it.

I looked at her. My first instinct was to fix it, but the way she was blinking up at me I realized she was scared of me. No, not of _me…_of how she felt. Of _us._ My heart jumped, only because I thought to myself, 'Jules isn't a coward, and she'll come back. She won't run away from this'. She shook her head, and I started to think she hadn't meant to say it at all, or she didn't realize she'd said it out loud.

"I can't be here when he's there…dead," she said with finality.

It was hard for me to argue with that. In Jules' head it made sense, and it didn't matter if it didn't make sense in mine. Her daddy was dead. I knew how that felt. I knew it seemed like nothing was ever gonna be the same again, and everything was sorta tilted, like when the television goes wacky because the wind is knocking the antenna around on the roof. Jules thought she'd never see a clear picture again. I got that. I'd felt it too. And in some ways, my picture really _wasn't_ clear ever again after my parents died. My whole life was different. Jules came into it after they were gone. It wasn't like that for her. I'd been in her life _before_ her dad died. Now it was after, and things were changing.

I didn't say anything else because I knew that she wasn't going to suddenly change her mind. I just pulled her close to me and held her. I was afraid to let go.

* * *

  
  
Two mornings later it dawned clear and sunny. What a cruel joke.

Jules packed some stuff in her car. The rest would follow in a moving van in three days. I promised her I'd pack up her apartment, open it up for the moving crew, and then drop off her key at the apartment office. That was what I could do for her, she said. I had no choice but to do it.

"I'm gonna miss you," she said, walking right into my embrace and pressing her face into my chest. We were standing in front of my house. Her car was parked behind my truck, and I couldn't see it from where we were standing. I was glad. I didn't want to see the suitcases.

I knew Pony and Soda were watching from the windows. I'd known they would the moment she said she'd like to pack up and drive over to say goodbye. I could have insisted; told her I'd rather go to her place for the privacy, but I didn't care anymore. I just didn't want her to go, and nothing else mattered all that much.

When she'd come, she'd knocked on the door and said goodbye to both my brothers. They looked confused, because I knew they didn't understand why she was going and not coming back. I tried to explain, but I didn't understand completely either, so I just told them we had to respect whatever she wanted to do. It was a little easier because we'd all lost our parents, and we all knew how crazy it makes you feel inside. Still, I knew they hoped she'd be back very soon. I didn't dare hope that.

"I'm gonna miss you, too," I said into her hair.

I think it was the most understated thing I've ever said. She held onto me for a while longer. It was hot again. The cold snap with all that rain seemed like ages ago, but at the same time, it seemed like we'd just met. The same things kept going round and round in my mind.

_I didn't get enough time with her. It's not fair._

"I don't like goodbyes," she said, pulling back a little. She was smiling sadly at me.

Then don't go, I wanted to say. I reminded myself not to be selfish and I said instead, "I don't either. So I guess this isn't goodbye then."

Her smile got a little less sad, and I was grateful to have said that. I was mad, real mad, but not at her. At the situation. At fate.

Jeez. Stupid, Darry. Stupid. I don't believe in fate.

"I guess I'll see you, then," she said and she tilted her face up. I leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't like the other kisses. It was a goodbye kiss and it made my heart hurt.

"I'll see you," I said. My voice had gone hoarse. I wanted to ask her if she'd be back. _When_ she'd be back. But I was afraid of the answer. So I didn't.

She walked around my truck in the direction of her car and I shoved my hands into my pockets as I watched her.

_I didn't get enough time with her. It's not fair. _

She smiled at me. "If it's meant to be…" she started to say, and then stopped. I was glad, because that's a cliché I couldn't deal with right then. Instead of finishing, she tilted her head as if to say 'oh well', and disappeared around the side of my truck. I heard her car door open. When the engine started, I tried to swallow and realized there was a huge lump in my throat. I wasn't gonna watch her drive away.

Without taking my hands out of my pockets, I turned and walked through our open gate and up our porch stairs. Past the rickety old swing that I'll never look at the same again. Shoot, I guess I'd never look at _anything _the same again. I guess I was different, and that made everything around me different.

Pony and Soda didn't even try to pretend they hadn't been in the window. Both of them stood looking grim, hands in their pockets, miniature versions of me. I didn't know what to say to them, they didn't know what to say to me.

Pony pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up. Soda fidgeted and I knew he wished he had a smoke, too. We just stood there -- we musta been a sight. Finally, Soda cleared his throat and it was the first sound I'd heard since Jules' car had started off. Me and Pony both swung our heads to look at him.

"I have this theory," he said softly. "You guys are gonna see each other again real soon."

I took my hands out of my pockets. My heart ached. "That's not a theory," I said, lifting my chin. I was surprised my voice worked. "That's wishful thinking."

Suddenly all of Jules' theories floated up into my mind.

_If you need something, it'll be there._

_If it gets bad enough, it's gotta break. Something has to change._

_If you go around regretting the things you do, there's no point in doing anything at all. _

I smiled at my brothers and shrugged my shoulders. "It'll be okay, right?" I wasn't asking, but they nodded anyway.

Soda looked relieved at being able to tell me something I wanted to hear. He slipped his hands out of his pockets and put one around my shoulders. "It's gonna be great, Dar!"

Jules wasn't there. Not today, anyway. But my brothers were, and that was okay, too.

_Continued in the epilogue..._

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**Reviews for Chapter 11:**

**Tessie26** - Thank you for your undying support throughout this whole story, and for letting me bounce my next story idea off of you. I really appreciate it!

**Robot In Disguise** - When you had time and inclination to chime in, I'm so glad you did. I'm glad you read the story and I really respect your opinion. Thanks!

**Arantxa** - Don't be too mad at Jules, hopefully in the end you'll understand her purpose.

**Raggedy Anne** - Jules sure did run the gamut of emotions, didn't she? Poor Darry, indeed. I can tell you're a huge Darry supporter so I kind of think of you as a kindred spirit. Thanks for your amazing reviews throughout the story!

**Julie** - That the chapter hit home for you is something I'm proud of, although I'm sorry it brought up unhappy memories. I hope in the end you can look at this story as something you'll enjoy because you can relate to it. Thanks for your comments and your support of Jules from the beginning.

**Bandit-Gurl42** - I tried not to keep everyone waiting too long after the way I left off. Hope you're satisfied and thanks for your constant positivity.

**Vincenza** - Until Ponyboy's out of his house, Darry's really in a bad situation, isn't he? I hope he finds someone too, in the end.

**Tonyboy** - Yes, you are truly a romantic. The only reviewer to suggest that they get married! I'd say that's pretty romantic, wouldn't you? I hope the girl you like also sees what a good person you are. Yes, I enjoyed writing the story very much, thank you!

**Langley** - First of all, thank you for some of the most insightful reviews I've ever seen on each and every chapter of the story. I really appreciated everything you have said. I have faith that you'll understand my reasons for ending it this way when you get through the rest.

**Jess** - I love the angst, can you tell? Muwahaha!


	13. Epilogue

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton.__ This story is non-profit.  
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1._

**  
  
  
Not Today  
Epilogue**

Packing up Julia's apartment was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. At first I had the whole gang in there helping me, but it was too hard to listen to their comments about her things.

"Lookit all these hair ties, yet she never had one with her!"

"Hey Two-Bit, check out this book of stuperstitions."

"_Super_stitions, dummy."

"Ya think she just read this book and picked which ones to believe?"

"I think she closed her eyes and pointed to a random spot on the page."

And on and on. They talked about her in the past tense. Like she was dead or somethin'. I didn't want them to do that, but I couldn't figure out how to tell them not to. I settled for muttering "shut up" under my breath so many times that eventually Ponyboy heard me. He blinked at me in surprise at first, but then I think he understood. He stood up and hooked his fingers into his belt loops, staging a large sigh.

"I'm ready to head over to the Dingo for a Coke."

Two-Bit and Steve both dropped whatever they were holding into their respective boxes and bounded up. Going out and hunting up some action was much better than packing boxes. Soda sort of hesitated, looking from me to Pony and back again.

"Do ya mind, Dar? We'll come back later and finish up," Pony said.

I don't give that kid enough credit. He understands a lot more than I think.

"Sure buddy," I said, and Soda broke into a grin. It faltered, though, when I didn't get up and head to the door with them.

"You're not coming?"

I tried to look casual. All I really wanted was for them to be outta there so I could wipe the blank look off my face. It's a look I've perfected. Soda calls it my poker face, but I know what it really is. It's the uncanny ability to hide my emotions no matter what's going on. Bland. Expressionless. I know Pony thinks it makes my eyes look like two pieces of ice.

"Nah. I'll keep doing this. You guys go."

Soda seemed a little less enthusiastic about going -- he's a good little brother -- but by the time they were out the door, Two-Bit musta cracked a joke because I heard Soda and Steve's laughter long after the door clicked closed behind them. I dropped my head into my hands and willed the tears to start. Something. Anything to release the feeling of my heart getting squeezed through a vice.

Nothing came. I don't cry easily, and if you think that's a good thing, trust me, it's not.

I cried after mom and dad died, even though Pony thinks I didn't. I cried late at night when I'd go in their room and sit on their bed. I cried a little when we packed up their things and had to decide what to keep and what to sell. We needed money. We had to sell more than we wanted to. I thought about Jules, wondered if she would cry when she packed up her house. Of course she will. She isn't like me. She isn't guarded.

It's a good way to be. Open, like Soda. People call it "wearing your heart on your sleeve" or "being an open book", like it's a bad thing. And sure, breaking down somewhere you don't want to can't be fun, but sometimes I think it's better than the alternative. Feeling, as opposed to teaching yourself not to. Passion, as opposed to hardening yourself beyond caring.

Jules sorta showed me that I still had feeling and passion, two things I honestly thought I'd left behind. Especially after Dally and Johnny died; I mean, I really closed myself off then. Jules showed me that I've always had feeling and passion for my family. She reminded me that me and Pony wouldn't fight so bad if I didn't care so much. I think she even told Pony that if I really didn't love him like Pony sometimes thought, I wouldn't be on his case all the time to do well and stay outta trouble. Pony knows that now, but sometimes he needs reminding.

I figured if I wasn't gonna break down, I was gonna keep working. I started on the bookshelves in the living room, and almost immediately noticed three books with silk ribbons carefully tied around them. There were small cards tucked into each one. I recognized Jules' large, reckless handwriting right away.

The first book had 'PONYBOY' scrawled across the top of the card. It was a brand new hardcover copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Under his name Jules had written: "I saw the copy you have at home. Return it to the library, Atticus!" I had to chuckle. Pony kept taking that book outta the school library, only returning it when old Mrs. Handleman, the librarian that had been there since the school was built, came after him with a broom. He'd take it out again the next day as if the whole thing had never happened.

She'd given Soda a small, pocket-sized book called _Card in the Pocket_. The card read, "If you're gonna cheat, **_WIN!!_** P.S. Say hi to Steve. Hope his car's okay, what with all these clouds." It made no sense, but Soda would laugh and so would Steve.

I was almost afraid to look at the last book. It was called _Theories of the Universe._ My card read, "One of these theories is bound to be the truth."

When I opened the book up, a piece of paper fell out and landed at my feet. I felt my heart pounding hard in my chest as I picked it up. It was a sketch of me and my brothers; not the best, but you could tell it was us. At the bottom, in the same charcoal pencil she'd used to draw it, Jules wrote: _THIS IS REALITY, NOT WISHFUL THINKING._ Smaller, underneath that she wrote: _Being afraid to say I love you is no excuse._

I looked at it for a long time and tried to remember what my life was like when Jules wasn't in it.

* * *

  
I musta fell asleep on the nearly-empty living room floor, because before I knew it, someone was shaking me awake. Before I opened my eyes, I foolishly said a little prayer that it was Jules, that she'd changed her mind, cancelled the movers in the morning and was coming back. I knew that was not the case before I even looked up and saw Pony staring down at me.

He looked worried.

"You alright, Darry?"

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My first instinct was, and is always, to be okay for Ponyboy. "Yeah, course I am," I said, and I heard the gruffness of my own voice and regretted it.

Pony dropped next to me, stretching his legs out in front of him. He had holes in his jeans. He needed new ones.

"Where's Soda?" I asked, edging a little more softness into my tone. I wasn't mad at him, I was just…

Mad.

Pony shrugged. "He went back to the house with Steve and Two-Bit. They dropped me off here first. I told em I wanted to come up alone."

I blinked at him. "Oh."

Maybe I don't get Pony all that much, but he sure seems to get me. Not all the time, of course, like he can't understand why I worry about stuff like him forgetting his jacket when the weatherman says it's going to snow or stopping in to see a movie on the spur of the moment and not letting me know he's gonna be two hours late. He's not supposed to understand those things, though. I forget that sometimes. He's fourteen.

"What time is it?" I asked.

He shrugged again. "I think it's around ten. How long are you gonna be here?"

"I gotta get this done. The movers come in the morning." I looked around the place. There wasn't all that much more to be done, but I suspected I was putting it off because I didn't want to lock the place up and know that I was never coming back again. Suddenly, the books Jules had left for my brothers sprang to mind. I reached over and grabbed the copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ off the shelf.

"Here. Jules left it for you."

I watched as Pony took the card out and read it, and he cocked a half-grin like he wasn't sure he should be smiling but couldn't help it. He flipped through the pages of the book, all stiff and clean from not being read. I knew he'd fix that real quick. Pony didn't believe in keeping books looking like new. He thought that the more worn, dog-eared and yellowed they were, the more it showed you loved them.

We sat like that, in silence except for Pony's turning of the book's pages. It made a soft 'pop' when he snapped it closed and set it down next to him. He tucked the card into the middle and lifted his knees, resting his arms across them.

"I liked her a whole lot," he said quietly. He didn't look at me, and we both just stared straight ahead, at the plain, white wall in front of us.

He was still talking about her in past tense. It hurt inside. It literally made my chest ache to think about never seeing Jules again.

"My heart hurts," I told Pony. "Like something's squeezing it and won't let up. Do you think that means my heart is breaking?"

Pony looked at me for a long time. I didn't look back, but I could feel his eyes on me. He was probably more shocked at the question than he'd been at anything in a long time. "Yeah," he said finally. "I guess it does."

I didn't really have anything to say after that. We just sat in silence.

"Is she coming back?" he finally asked, and I knew all of the boys had been wanting to ask it ever since I asked them to help me pack up her stuff. Pony was picking at his fingernails. "I mean, why'd she leave like this?"

I didn't know. Hell, I believed Jules didn't know. I half-hoped she was just screwed up and mourning and after the funeral, after her house in California was sold, she'd realize she'd made a big mistake and come back to Tulsa. Get back into school and go on with her life.

And maybe that would happen.

Maybe.

"She had to get the house in California cleaned out and sold," I told Ponyboy as honestly as I could. That was the only reason I knew to give.

She was scared of how she felt, I knew that too, but that was private between the two of us and I was never going to share it. Hell, I was scared too. Terrified, because I didn't know how I'd balance a girlfriend and my brothers and my work and my buddies. But I had been willing to figure it out, and yeah, I was a little sore that she wasn't. But I couldn't think like that. It wasn't fair. Her dad had died.

"Will she come back after that?" Pony asked.

I wished I was fourteen again. "I hope so."

That was the honest to goodness truth. Pony looked at me then, smiled like he was glad I wasn't just giving him a line of bullshit. I smiled back. The kid sure did understand things, just as good as Soda did. I never gave him enough of a chance to find out before.

I reached out and ruffled the back of his head. He groaned and immediately smoothed his hair back into place which made me laugh. Him and his tuff hair.

"I love you, little buddy," I said.

It surprised him. It surprised me, too. But I was glad I'd said it. Jules was right; being afraid was no excuse. I'd make sure I told Sodapop, too. Maybe even Two-Bit, and he could take that list out of his pocket and cross off "Find Darry's Craziness". Boy, that would be something.

I stood up and took stock of the room. Just a few more shelves to be packed and we'd be done. Pony stood up to help me, and we didn't say anything else after that. I didn't think there was anything more that needed to be said.

END

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**_Final A/N:_**_ I like open-ended endings. And regardless of whether or not it ended up how you wanted it to, I truly hope everyone enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Big thank you to everyone who chimed in at any point in the story, and a special thank you to the people who read and encouraged me with feedback on almost every chapter: _**Langley, Tessie26, Bandit-Gurl42, miz jif, Julie, Raggedy Anne, Jess, Kaz456, Makado Felton, JPSquire, and Arantxa. **

  
P.S. Isn't it funny that a story about a superstitious girl would end up having 13 parts? ((cue spooky music))


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